


Cold

by CrimsonIceGoddess



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonIceGoddess/pseuds/CrimsonIceGoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabella Swan meets the man of her dreams in 1918. However, an evening out turns tragic and the two are ripped apart. Now, 90 years later, a broken, depressed Bella returns to the states with the goal of finding her long lost family. What she finds instead will change her life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What I've Been Searching For

**Author's Note:**

> Cold is a work of fanfiction. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Story title was inspired by Cold As Stone by Lady Antebellum. The song really fits the story as a whole, which I'm hoping will be apparent as the story progresses.
> 
> Secondly, this story is a slow build. Please stick with me though, because I want it to be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Then you look at me  
> And I always see  
> What I have been searching for  
> I'm lost as can be  
> Then you look at me  
> And I am not lost anymore
> 
> -Then You Look at Me by Celine Dion-

****

**_-Chicago 13 June 1918-_ **

 

I pulled my sun bonnet down as I walked tentatively towards the busy sounds of the grower's market. I knew most of the stallholders and vendors would recognize me, and they'd look upon me as a pariah, but I didn't have a choice. My mother was relying on me to fill her shopping list. I glanced down momentarily at my bare left hand resting on the swell in my abdomen. I was unwed and pregnant. Only a select group of people knew the reason behind this. It was a shameful act for a woman to be pregnant out of wedlock, and I had been suffering with the sidelong stares and hushed whispers for the past five months. My parents and the doctor who examined me after that terrible night agreed that it would be a bad idea for us to spread the word of how this had happened. My family would be shunned for smearing the name of one of society's elite, despite the fact that he was the one to do this to me. We were lower middle class, and he was high society. Only one other person knew of my situation - the bronze haired man who saved me, delivered me to my parent's house, and then vanished. I didn't know who he was, and I didn't remember much about him other than his odd colored hair and his willingness to help me when others wouldn't. Many a night I had prayed that I'd get to see him just one more time so I could thank him for saving me.

My mind came back to reality as I stepped into the market area. My skin tingled as I felt the eyes of the populous on me. Most everyone here knew my name; it had been spread all throughout my neighborhood, the girl who opened her legs to a stranger and now carried his bastard child. No one cared who the father was, the speculation from that died down months ago. The way most everyone had it figured was that I'd walked the streets selling sex and seducing the city's husbands and fathers. I guess they assumed the father of my baby was one of these morally upright family men whom I had debased. I took the stares and harsh words. I didn't have a choice. I let my hand slip off my bulge as I began searching through the various booths looking for what I needed. The other customers in the market seemed to avoid me like the plague, and most of the sellers never made eye contact with me as I paid them for my food. My insides twisted in humiliation as I passed a group of girls I knew from school. I heard their muffled giggles and whispers, no doubt at my expense.

The trip was short and thankfully I was able to get what I needed quickly and headed back home. I let out a shaky sigh as I walked away from the market. I hated being out in public now that it was obvious that I was with child. My mother's injury was the reason I was out today, but it didn't change anything. My discomfort was too much to handle. Mother and Father had called Aunt Jessica after the doctor had confirmed my pregnancy. They were going to send me away to live with her in Gatlinburg until after I'd had the baby. However, that had all changed when my mother fell and broke her hip. I'd been forced to stay home and take up her responsibilities while she healed.

Although she had finally recovered, walking was difficult for her, so I still had to take care of many of her responsibilities. I loved my mother, so I would have done it even it weren't her responsibility. However, that didn't ease my discomfort at being out. The first thing anyone noticed was the absence of a ring.

I felt the child move and rolled my shoulders uncomfortably. The birth was approaching quickly, just a few more months now, but I knew that even afterward, the shame on my family and myself would be permanent. I had begged several times for us to move, but my parents weren't keen on starting life anew in some other place. I felt tears prick in my eyes and I fought them off. I would leave just as soon as this problem was taken care of. My parents had wanted to me to keep the child, but I'd put my foot down and told them that I would carry it, but that once it was born I would have to give it up. I stroked my belly absently. Oddly, there was love in my heart for the tiny human growing inside me, but I knew that I would never be able to look upon this baby's face and not think of the horrible conception. There would always be that resentment in me. I thought back to the face of the father. I remember him shoving me down and having his way with me. He ruined me and I hated him. Growing up, I had always wanted to be a mother. I loved the idea of having a wonderful husband and a family. Now as I saw this man's face taunting me in my mind, I realized he had destroyed that for me. No one would want me now. I was impure, a harlot.

The pricking in my eyes strengthened. My vision blurred as tears pooled and spilled over. What would become of me now? I dropped my head and let the unbidden sobs fall freely. I was close to home now, so I stopped in the middle of the cobbled street and waited out my crying spell. My parents would chastise me if they found I'd been crying again. Though they knew the truth of the incident, it hurt me sometimes when they'd stare at me, as if I was a pariah and a disappointment to them as well. I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and blew my nose into it before folding it up and wiping the tears from my cheeks. I lifted my head again and let my eyes glance around the street. One thing that my night in that alley had taught me was to always be aware of my surroundings. I inhaled deeply and forced out a shaky breath as I fought to control the emotions ripping through me. As I brought myself under control, I tried to focus on just making it to our family home which was (unfortunately for me) perched on top of a steep hill. It had gotten harder to trek up the harsh incline since I'd grown in size. My feet were becoming sore and I groaned as I began to push myself forward at a steady pace.

About halfway up the hill, the toe of my shoe caught on a piece of cobblestone, and I stumbled forward. Instinctively, my hands flew out to catch me as I landed and felt my knees crack on the ground. The food in my basket spilled out and several pieces of fruit rolled down the hill. I felt like crying again as I braced myself on my right hand and let my left stroke my belly absently. I knelt there, unwilling to move for what seemed like forever before I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder.

"Miss, are you all right? May I help you with that?" The voice was angelic and soft and it startled me.

Normally, no one bothered with the likes of me. Everyone in town knew who I was, what I was-or rather, what they thought I was. I didn't recognize the voice and I lifted my head to see who it was. A pair of dazzling green eyes caught my gaze, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.


	2. This Pain Is Just Too Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You used to captivate me by your resonating light  
> Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind  
> Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
> Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me  
> These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real  
> There's just too much that time cannot erase
> 
> -My Immortal by Evanescence-
> 
> This chapter picks up exactly where Chapter 1 left off.

My gaze traveled away from the green eyes, as I began to take in the slightly angled face of the man who knelt before me. His firm, distinct features told me he was older, but he had no wrinkles or gray hair and his eyes still held a bit of child innocence. I suspected he couldn't be more than a few months to a year or so older than myself. My eyes drifted up from his strong nose and lips to his forehead, and I gasped as my eyes met his hair – it was rusty colored with varying shades of red streaked through it. The way the sun was hitting it, I could also make out light shades of blonde throughout. Swallowing hard, I wondered whether this man could be the one that saved me in the alley. Our eyes met again, and his were warm, which was completely unexpected for me. I was so used to the vile, repulsed look I got whenever someone saw me.

He spoke again, catching me off guard. "Here, let me help you up. You seem to be having a bit of trouble."

I blinked and nodded, not sure whether I trusted my voice to speak. I was even more surprised as he slid his fingers under my left hand, which was still draped across my belly, and helped me to feet. I felt an undeniable pull to this man that I couldn't explain. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I couldn't help but notice that my heart began to race when he touched me. I wanted nothing more than to just feel him wrap his arms around me . His large hands wrapped firmly around mine, sending warmth and a feeling security straight through me. I didn't understand it, but I felt a connection to him that ran deeper than just being saved in a dark alley.

Once we stood, I noticed he was tall, a good half-foot taller than I. His shoulders were broad and strong-looking and I supposed they'd have to be for him to have hefted me out of that alley and carried me home, if he indeed was the same man.

An older woman with perfectly styled blue-gray hair and shard, deep wrinkles appeared beside us, her arms loaded down with the food that had fallen from my basket. "Here you go, dear," she said in a soft voice.

I held my right arm out just a bit, the basket still tucked in the crook of my elbow. The young man dropped my hand and helped the woman reload my basket. When they were finished, I shifted the basket on my arm and brought it back to my body. Now that their good deed for the day was finished, I suspected they would leave. Anyone else would have simply left me there on my hands and knees in the middle of the street. And if someone had found the decency to help me, they probably would have been as quick as possible about it so as to not be seen with the town pariah.

So it caught me by surprise when the man came around to my left and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. The woman looked at him, smiled and came around to my right, wrapping her arm around my waist. "Let us help you, dear. Do you live up at the top of this hill?"

"Yes ma'am," I said, bewildered. Who were these people? Did they care at all about their reputation?

"This is her, Mother, the girl I spoke to you about," the man said.

The woman turned her head towards me and I flushed, fully prepared to hear what the latest gossip about me was. She met his gaze, her face slightly surprised by what he'd said. "Are you sure, Edward?"

"I'm positive. If it weren't her eyes, it would be her scent. She's absolutely intoxicating."

"Edward Anthony Masen," she scolded him and then turned her gaze back to me. "Please forgive my son, he forgets his manners sometimes. My name is Elizabeth; this rude young man is Edward."

I stifled a chuckle and bowed my head to each of them. "I'm Isabella Swan."

The two stopped short, their eyes wide as they stared at me. I let my head drop and flushed deep red. "The Isabella Swan everyone has been talking about?" Edward asked. "You're the one everyone is saying all those awful things about?"

The reaction shouldn't have surprised me. How many times had telling someone my name prompted the very same reaction from people? However, despite the familiarity of it, this reaction brought a fresh wave of shame. "I am," I murmured.

"Why would anyone say that about you? Doesn't anyone know the truth?" he asked, still bewildered.

I shook my head. "Apart from myself, those involved, my parents and my doctor, the only other that knows the truth would be you."

I turned my head from side to side, gauging their reactions. Elizabeth spoke first. "Forgive my prying, but your child, was it conceived on that night?"

I felt the sting of tears prick my eyes. I didn't even know this woman, yet somehow, her question didn't offend me. I don't know why I was compelled to answer, but I did. "Yes ma'am," I croaked.

"You poor dear," she said as she pulled me to her in a warm and gentle embrace. In that moment all my manners vanished and the tears spilled from my eyes. I didn't know this family and yet here they were, risking their reputation to be seen with the likes of me: a harlot, a pariah. Elizabeth Masen stood there, holding me until my eyes stung and my tears came no more.

I pulled away and forced a weak smile. "Please forgive me for that," I mumbled, wiping my cheeks on my sleeve.

She reached up and stroked my cheek gently. "It's all right, dear. You've got every right to feel overwhelmed and upset." She sighed. "Let's get you home. I'm sure your parents will be waiting for you."

I nodded and turned away, still wiping away the remaining tears. Elizabeth weaved her arm around my waist again, and to my surprise, her handsome son offered me his arm. Tentatively, I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow as he smiled down at me.

I stumbled a few times as we made our up the steep hill and toward my house. I stopped just outside the steps leading up to my front door and glanced over at Elizabeth Masen. "Well, this is my home. Thank you so much for your kind words, and your help."

She smiled at me and glanced over my head at her son, whose eyes were fixated on my face. After a moment, she pulled away from me and walked a few feet back down the sidewalk. I turned to look at Edward, my hand still tucked into the crook of his elbow. "I should probably get inside. My mother will need these vegetables." My words spilled out in a rushed, jumbled, mess.

He blinked, as if coming out of a trance and flashed a breathtaking crooked smile at me. "I was wondering if I might perhaps call on you sometime."

His bluntness stunned me for a moment, knocking the wind out of me. Who was this man? Did he know what he was asking? "Um, uh," I muttered, completely caught off guard. "You'd be willing to risk your reputation to be seen with me?"

His smile grew, and in a most unexpected move, the fingers of his left hand ghosted down my cheek. "I'm not worried about what people will say about me. I know the truth behind the lies. I know you're not a harlot. You're just a victim of circumstance. In fact, if I had my way about it, the truth would have been made known right away. However, it's not my place."

I couldn't help but smile a little. He really was exceedingly handsome, and for some reason I couldn't quite fathom, it made me happy that he could see past the reputation that surrounded me. "Well then, Mr. Masen, since you don't seem to mind what you're getting yourself into, then yes, you may call on me."

He pulled his hand from my cheek, and slipped my left hand out of the crook of his elbow. I watched, stunned, as he took it in both of his hands and brought it to his lips reverently. He flushed a little before planting a gentle kiss on the top of my hand. "It would be my honor, Miss Swan." Now it was my turn to flush. I pulled my hand away, gently, and turned toward the stairs. I felt his eyes on my back as I reached for the door, and slipped in. As I closed the door, I pressed my back against it, closing my eyes. It was safe to say, I was taken with Edward Masen.

**_-Amsterdam 18 July 2009-_ **

I thumped my head against the brick wall, sighing in frustration, and felt little bits of the wall break off and fall on me. I needed a distraction, to take my mind away from where it had been. I needed to feed; it had been too long anyway, at least a month. I stood and pushed off the wall, my instincts taking over completely as I sniffed the air tentatively. The smell of cannabis wafted toward me, making me gag. That was one thing I didn't like about this place. The memories of that day had been so overwhelming that I didn't remember stalking up next to one of the coffee shops. The smell cut off abruptly as the door to the coffee shop closed. Instantly I heard the voices of two young women, American, talking about how great the weed was. So, like many tourist they were here for the marijuana. I listened intently to their conversation as they talked about coming back for Cannabis Cup. I smiled to myself. They weren't going to make it past tonight, let alone to November which is when the event would be taking place. I stood for a moment, thinking up a plan :before I began tearing my clothing in various places. I stumbled out of the alley, just in front of the girls, and fell into them. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry." I forced a weeping sound as I spoke.

The strawberry blonde looked at me, her eyes wide. "Oh, my god! Are you all right?"

I nodded my head frantically, eying the alley in mock fearfulness. "Y-yes," I stuttered. "I was just...I...I was just on my way back to my hotel." I pulled away, my eyes darting back to the alley as I bit my lip with feigned nervousness.

The brunette stared at me for a moment before turning her eyes to her friend. "She doesn't look so well, Tanya. Maybe we should give her a ride."

Tanya's eyes stayed focused on me. "We don't know her, Angela. Besides, I'm sure she has a vehicle." She glanced up and down the empty street. There was only one car, their car. Her eyes came back to me as she took in my pale skin and torn clothes. I kept my head down, keeping my eyes away from them. I didn't want to frighten them away, after all. "You do have a car, right?"

Something about me was making this girl uncomfortable, and I could smell her fear. She didn't really seem too keen on the idea of me joining her and her friend, and she kept glancing up and down the street as if looking for someone to save her from the situation.

I glanced back at the alley again, a fearful look on my face, before shaking my head. "I...uh...I came here with a guy I met at my hotel. My rental is still there."

Tanya glanced around again before settling back on me. "Well, where is he? Did he leave you?"

I began to feign panic now, letting my breathing accelerate as I choked back sobs. "Um...you could say that." My mind was racing as I tried to play off the idea that the guy I'd met at my hotel was a danger coming after me. I'd used this routine a thousand times over, and I'd never had this problem before. For some reason, however, this Tanya girl wasn't taking the bait. Hungry, and desperate to feed, I focused my thoughts on my need for blood, and the fact that I needed them to let me come with them.

"Well where's your hotel?" Angela asked.

I bit my lip again. This would work. I needed it to work. "I'm staying at Hotel Tamara."

She turned to Tanya, her eyes lighting up, "See, so it's not out of the way. She's at the same hotel we are."

Tanya tensed. "Shut up," she said through gritted teeth, her voice betraying her discomfort with the situation. Her suspicious eyes never left me. She stood for a few minutes, calculating, before she finally said, "All right, fine, come with us. Our car is right over here, we'll take you back to the hotel." As the two girls turned and headed to the car, I followed behind them, a slight smile on my lips. I was incredibly thirsty. I hadn't fed since I'd arrived here.

An hour and thirty minutes later, I licked my lips as I sat up and stared at the freshly drained body lying beneath me. I'd faked nausea and managed to get Tanya to pull the car over by the canals so I could "vomit." Angela had gotten out and followed me. I'd drained her quickly, just feeling the relief as her warm blood ran down my throat. After a few minutes, Tanya had appeared behind me, asking where Angela was. She'd been planning to scream when I turned on her and she saw my glowing crimson eyes. I'd caught her before she'd even had a chance to run, and fed on her swiftly.

I snapped the necks of both bodies and ripped some chunks of flesh off of them as well as snapped a few bones before dumping them in the canal. I didn't bother worrying about my prints on the door, authorities in the area would never even find out who I was, so I just shrugged and flitted away to find cover before the sun rose. Dawn was just beginning to break as I came to Korenmolen De Bloem, a local landmark and historical building in Amsterdam. I was thankful this old windmill was one of the ones that weren't open to visitors. I knew I could hide out here for a brief period of time, at least for the day.

I scaled the wall and climbed in through one of the windows near the top. After searching, I found a tiny little crawl space to hide in, and squeezed in. It wasn't big, and I couldn't sit up, but it would suffice. As I began to settle in, lying on my back in the tiny crawl space, my mind drifted back to him.

I sighed as sadness washed over me. Ever since the day he and his mother had helped me up from the sidewalk and he'd asked to court me, he'd been all I wanted. He was there with me when I'd delivered my bastard son, he'd stayed with me despite the fact that I wasn't pure, and he'd told me he was in love with me just two nights before I'd gone on the walk that had ripped us apart. The worst decision I'd ever made was to go for that walk. If I had stayed, I could have been with him.

I'd been back to Chicago just once since my change in 1918, and managed to find a newspaper article in the public archives talking about the influenza outbreak. In the obituary section I'd found the Masens, well Elizabeth and Edward Masen, Sr. Edward Sr. had been among the first to die, on September 15th. His wife wasn't listed until the week of September 28th. I'd never found a listing for my Edward, so I'd always assumed he'd lived out his days.

I choked back dry sobs as I thought about him. Had he found happiness? Perhaps he'd forgotten about me and moved on, married another and fathered beautiful children. After I'd read the articles, and found he wasn't listed in the obituaries, I'd left, not bothering to look him up past that point. I couldn't bear the thought that he'd fathered another woman's children. Once I'd realized I was in love with him, during my human life, I'd wanted nothing more than to be his wife and have his children. We were so young, so in love and I'd out lived him. I felt my chest rip open as I rolled to my side and pulled my legs up, wrapping my arms around them. I still loved him, I always had, and I knew that I always would.


	3. Right Here, Right Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waking up to find that your love's not real
> 
> -Right Here, Right Now by Fatboy Slim-
> 
> So, I've posted some cool little tidbits about this story on my blog. Check them out here: http://bit.ly/y99FpM

**-Chicago 20 June 1918-**

"Isabella" – my mother called from downstairs – "you have a visitor!"

I sighed and laid my book face down on my swollen belly. Clasping my hands as I stretched my arms over my head, the baby stretched in my womb, its movement in tandem with my own. There was a knock on the door as my mother entered my bed chamber.

"Isabella, did you hear me?"

I nodded. "Yes, Mother, I heard you. Who is it?"

A large smile spread across her face, and she shut the door behind her, coming to sit at the foot of my bed. "It's a young man. I believe he is the one that saved you in the alley."

I felt my cheeks flush at the knowledge that he'd actually come back. "Mother, I'm not feeling too well. Perhaps you could tell him that for me?"

Her face twisted into a look of disappointment. "Isabella, that young man is willing to look past what people have been saying. He's willing to put his reputation on the line; perhaps you should give him a chance."

"Mother, please send him away. I don't want him to become the subject of town gossip."

My mother shifted closer toward me, grabbing my hand and squeezing. "Please, Isabella, give him a chance. He seems nice enough." I sighed and nodded. My mother moved my book to my bedside table and helped me into a standing position. Together we descended the stairs, where Edward Masen stood waiting for me in the foyer. His face lit up when our eyes met, and a wonderfully handsome smile spread across his lips.

When Mother and I got to the bottom of the stairs, he offered his hand to me, and I tentatively placed mine in his. "Lovely to see you again, Miss Swan," he said in a velvety voice. He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed them to the back of it, causing me to flush.

"It's lovely to see you as well, Mr. Masen." I smiled my best smile. My mother kissed my cheek before exiting the foyer, giving us some privacy. "I must say, I did not expect you to come to call."

"Of course I would, Miss Swan. I was wondering if you might accompany me to my home. We are having a birthday celebration, and I would very much like for you to join me."

I flushed again and turned my head, seeing my mother peeking around the corner. She nodded, and I turned my head back to Edward, who was still holding my hand. "That would be wonderful, Mr. Masen. I would be honored to join you." He smiled his breathtaking, crooked smile and squeezed my hand gently before placing it into the crook of his elbow.

After a quick shower to freshen up, and a change of clothes, we exited my home, and I couldn't contain my gasp when I saw the gorgeous vehicle parked against the curb. I had never ridden in a Cadillac before. This particular model was a 1918 Cadillac type 57 touring car. It was a deep crimson red and had a black cloth top and black wheel wells. I'd seen the rich and respected driving around in cars similar to this, but I myself had never had the luxury of even sitting in one.

I heard Edward chuckle and pulled my attention from the car to find him staring at me in amusement. "Do you like it?" he asked.

I nodded. "Is it yours?"

"Of course. Who else would it belong to?"

"It's lovely," I said as I turned my attention back to the car. A small knot formed in my throat just then, and I began to wonder how old he actually was. Initially, I'd assumed he was around my age, but if he was able to afford this car, then that meant he had to have his own money. Which could have meant any number of things. Maybe he'd collected his trust fund already, or perhaps his father had passed away and left him an inheritance, or maybe he was older than I thought and had earned his own money.

He broke the silence between us, causing me to jolt just a little. "Shall we?" he asked, motioning toward the car.

I blinked a few times, my attention returning to Mr. Masen. "Forgive me. Let us be on our way."

He nodded and helped me climb into the car before walking around to the driver side and climbing into his seat. He turned to me, his face a mask of worry. "Is everything all right?"

I turned my gaze to him, my eyes locking with his luminous green ones. Before I could go anywhere with this man, I had to know his station. I couldn't bear the thought of him being targeted for being seen with me. "Forgive me if this is too bold, but may I ask you how old you are?"

The right side of his lips quirked up into a half smile, and he took my hand in his. "Today is my twenty-sixth birthday."

I nodded, letting out a long drawn out sigh, gently pulling my hand away. "I think, perhaps, I had better get back inside. Will you forgive me if I don't go with you tonight?"

He took my hand again, his free hand coming up to lift my face to his. "Have I done something wrong?"

I shook my head. "It isn't you, Mr. Masen, it's me. I can't let you be seen with me."

"Why is that?" he asked, eyeing me curiously.

"This car, combined with your age, suggests to me that you either come from money, or that you have your own money, which means you're of a higher station than I."

He chuckled and swept his thumb across my cheek. "Will you let me worry about my 'station'? I told you before that I don't care what people think of me. It's my choice who I spend time with." I opened my mouth to object, and he placed his finger gently against my lips. "Enough. It's my birthday. Will you please do me the honor of spending this evening with me?"

I tried to swallow the knot in my throat and nodded. "My apologies, I just don't want to be responsible for ruining your reputation."

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention away from me. As soon as he removed his hands from me, I immediately felt cold and abandoned. I pushed the irrational feeling from my mind and focused on the night ahead of me.

We drove through the town in a slightly tense silence, neither of us trying to break it. I watched as the scenery around us changed. The humble neighborhood where I lived disappeared, and we began to enter the high-end part of town. Abruptly, the car stopped, and I covered my mouth with my hand as I gaped at the house in front of me.

It wasn't a mansion, but it was bigger than my family's home. The red brick building was two stories tall and surrounded by a decorative wrought-iron fence. I stared at the house for a long moment, faintly hearing the driver side door close. Mr. Masen appeared by my door a few moments later and helped me out of the car.

"Will you help me set up the house before everyone gets here?" he asked.

"Of course," I said, not taking my eyes off of the house. He wanted me to help him get everything set up; that meant he lived here alone. Did he own the house, or did it belong to his parents? I suddenly felt very insignificant next to this man. Was he seriously interested in me, the town pariah? The idea was preposterous.

He pulled me from my musing by gently touching my cheek and turning my head to face him. "Relax, Miss Swan. It's only going to be as good of a night as you make it."

I let out a shaky breath and nodded, forcing a smile. "You're right. Please forgive me."

He smiled at me, happily, and led me toward the front door of the house. I still didn't feel comfortable with this, but he was right. It was his birthday, and I was going to do my very best to make it a good night for him. I'd deal with the issue of our stations later.

"Did you enjoy the celebration, Miss Swan?" Mr. Masen asked, after he'd climbed into the driver's seat of his car.

I nodded. "Yes, it was grand. Thank you for inviting me."

He smiled widely at me before starting up the car. "Of course, Miss Swan. Thank you for accompanying me."

The car roared to life, and we began our drive back to my home. I thought about the evening I had just spent with the Masen family. Edward Masen Sr. was a wonderful man and surprised me by being just as generous and accepting of me as his wife and son. The gathering was small, mostly family of the Masens from what I surmised. There were a few young girls who stared at me while they whispered amongst themselves. However, I chose to ignore their behavior and focused on enjoying myself.

The engine cut off when we arrived at my home, and I turned my head toward Edward to find him staring at me like he had the day I'd met him. I flushed and dropped my gaze. From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head and begin climbing out of the car.

I shifted my body when my door opened, and took Mr. Masen's hand as he helped me out of my seat. "I would love to see you again, Miss Swan, if that's all right with you," he said, as he tucked my arm into the crook of his elbow.

I stroked my belly absentmindedly before I spoke. "I would like that very much, Mr. Masen, but..."

"Hey," he said, turning to face me. "No buts. Let's not go back to that conversation." I opened my mouth to protest, and like before, he placed a gentle finger against my lips. "Did you enjoy spending time with me tonight?" I nodded. "Would you like to spend more time with me?" I nodded again. "Well then don't worry about what everyone else thinks. They don't control us, and they won't stop me from wanting to see you again."

I sighed, taking in his words. What he said made sense, but the way I'd been raised, reputation was everything. Still, when I looked into his magnificent green eyes, I couldn't help but feel drawn to him. I didn't honestly think anything would come of this courtship, so instead of letting myself worry further, I simply gave him a final nod. "You're right. Let's just enjoy each other's company."

He smiled and turned back toward the house. Together, we climbed the steps, and as we reached the door, I turned to face him. "Would you like to come in for some tea?"

He flushed, and I found myself liking the color on his skin. "I had better get home. Thank you for offering though." I simply nodded. I wasn't sure how late it was, but I imagined he needed to be back so he could be well rested before work.

He brought my hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. "Thank you again for joining me tonight, Miss Swan." I smiled and nodded. He caught me completely off guard by leaning forward and kissing my cheek before turning and descending the steps back to his car.

With my hand pressed against my cheek, I stood there, watching as he drove off, my heart singing. Once he was out of sight, I turned and went inside, knowing full well I would dream of Edward Masen that night.

**-The Netherlands 1 August 2009-**

The burn in my throat was becoming unbearable. I hadn't fed since I'd feasted on those two young American tourists, as I'd been forced to leave Amsterdam the following evening. Apparently, two dead Americans in a foreign country is a big deal.

I'd fled on foot to Utrecht, then followed the A12 motorway to the A20 motorway, taking me to Rotterdam. I was now making my way to Calais, with every intention of swimming from there to Hastings. My final destination was London, but first I needed to feed. I wasn't exactly sure where I was at this particular moment, only that I was getting closer and closer to the coast.

I tentatively sniffed the air, hoping I could pick up someone. I was feeling weak and desperately needed nourishment. I caught a scent, just barely, as it was beginning to fade in the air. I let my instincts take over and began following it.

Sometime later, I ducked down behind a fallen tree, and saw two male hikers. This will be easier than I thought. I inhaled deeply and felt the fire in my throat. It would be quenched soon.

I made a wide circle around the men, planning to come at them from the left. My eyes stayed on them the whole time. They were confident with their course and appeared to be familiar with the area. I smiled. Good, natives, I thought to myself. I squared my shoulders and began my own confident stride towards them.

As I got closer, I heard their accented voices and smiled wider. I was suddenly very happy I'd taken the time to learn Dutch, as I stepped right up to them noisily to catch their attention. One was tall with sandy blond hair and icy blue eyes, the other a bit shorter and a bit stouter with brown eyes and dark brown hair. Both stopped as I approached, and their eyes bulged from their heads. My smile wavered for just a moment, before I took in the area—we were in an open field, and the sun's rays were kissing my skin. I mentally kicked myself for not paying better attention. In my quest to satiate my hunger, I hadn't bothered to notice to my surroundings. Now my skin was glistening in the sunlight, shooting rainbows in every direction. I was about to scare off my prey.

"Hello, boys," I said in perfect Dutch, hoping to save the moment. I knew that I would have them in the end. Hell, their running will just add a thrill to the kill.

Never taking his eyes off me, the brown-haired man smacked the back of his hand on his companion and spoke. "An angel. Look, Cobus, a real angel!"

The blond looked at his friend and they shared a knowing look before he turned back to me. "I'm Jacobus, this is Dedrick. May we ask what you're doing out here alone?"

I flashed my perfect teeth at them, letting my black eyes smolder with sexuality. "I'm just looking for some fun. Do you boys think we can have some fun?"

Both men flushed, and their scents wafted toward me. I let out a sensual moan and stepped closer to them. The blond closed the distance, his eyes meeting mine as I reached my hand out toward him. After he took it, I pulled him closer to me. Our faces were less than a half an inch apart now and the air was heady with his scent.

I let my lips meet his, and he didn't hesitate to respond, kissing me hard and fierce. I drew my lips away and began making my way down to his jugular. Once my lips found the pulsing vein, I didn't delay as I sank my teeth into his flesh. I felt his body stiffen and pulled him closer, sinking my teeth further in. The blood pulsed down my throat with each of his heartbeats, and I moaned as the burning in my throat began to dull.

His heart began to weaken and eventually stopped altogether. I pulled my lips from his neck and tossed his limp body aside. His friend was gone; I must have been too consumed with feeding to notice, but I quickly recovered his scent and let my newly energized muscles push me along. I found him a short time later, pressed against a tree, breathing heavily. As soon as he saw me, his eyes widened, and he let out a fearful shriek. He turned to start to run again, but I was on his back in a flash, pressing my teeth into his skin. All too quickly, his heart stopped. I sighed and tossed his body to the ground, mutilating it to hide the bite mark, before I ran back to the field to do the same to the other body.

**-London 5 August 2009-**

Dusk was just settling over the bustling city as I strolled through the streets, my eyes trained on the ground. No one seemed to pay me much attention, which was fine with me. As soon as I'd gotten here, I'd gone to the closest boutique to buy some fresh clothes. I wouldn't be here long, as I had every intention of flying back to the States—I was tired of foreign lands. I'd been to every country since I'd come to Europe in the early thirties, and I longed to back on my native soil. Or maybe I just wanted to be closer to where I'd met him.

My mind strayed back to him again, and I couldn't fight the pain and emptiness that constantly consumed me. I glanced at the fancy new watch I'd bought with my new clothes and gasped when I saw the date plastered just above the time. If my heart could still beat, it would have been racing at this very second. Ninety one years ago exactly today. Edward had been with me when he'd been born. I'd never met my son, but I couldn't fight the questions that swirled in my mind when I realized it was his birthday today. I felt like I was going to collapse; I needed to sit down somewhere. I came across a pub, and not bothering to look up, I entered and slid into an empty booth.

I began to wonder if he was still alive. Surely if he were, he would be terribly old by now. Did he have a family? What had happened to him? All of these questions filled my mind, and I decided that I would search for the answers as soon as I got back to the States. I slid out of the booth some time later and began to make my way to the nearest airport to find the next available flight.

Standing in London's Gatwick Airport, I stared at the flight schedules. The next flight to the States was the following morning, flying into New York. I smiled and pulled the familiar plastic card from my pocket as I strode up to a bouncy young woman behind the counter. "Can I help you?" she asked in a Surrey accent.

"Yes. One first class ticket to New York."

She nodded at me and turned to the computer, typing quickly. "All right...oh, we have just one seat open. Tomorrow morning on the eight-thirty departure. Is that the one you wanted, Miss?"

I nodded. She quoted the total cost, and asked for my PIN when I handed her my card. She also asked to see my passport, so I immediately pulled out one of my hundreds of fake IDs and handed it to her. When the transaction was finished, she handed my card and ID back to me and motioned me toward the first class lounge.

I settled in and glanced at my watch, seeing that it was just five minutes to midnight. I sniffed the air and caught the scent of humans all around me. The familiar burn decided to make itself known, but I forced myself to ignore it. I would have to feed as soon as the plane landed, of that I was sure.

Ten hours later, we landed in LaGuardia, and as soon as the door was opened, I stepped into the jetway inhaling the semi-uncontaminated air. Exiting the airport a few minutes later, I stepped outside, noticing that the weather was cold. I was thankful to be in New York during the fall. I glanced up at the sky, happy to see it was overcast as I made my way out of the airport.

"Here you are, Miss. Champion Motor Group."

I smiled. "Thank you so much." Reaching over the seat, I handed the driver his fee, plus a hefty tip, before I stepped out of the cab. As he drove off, I strode purposefully up to the building, my eyes landing on a beautiful red car in the lot. I changed my direction and walked over to it, glancing inside. It was a convertible with a black leather and red-trim interior. I was immediately in love with this car, and smiled as I turned back to the building. I wasn't good with cars, but I knew a Lamborghini when I saw one. I also knew they were fast, which was what I wanted.

As soon as I stepped inside, a man in a heavily starched and pressed gray suit approached me. "Good afternoon, young lady. How may I help you today?"

I flashed him my best smile. "I want that red Lamborghini out there, the convertible."

He laughed into his fist, which he attempted to cover with a fake cough, before speaking again. "That's a very expensive car, Ma'am. Perhaps you've confused our dealership with another?"

"No, sir. I found your listing in the phone book; I know this is the right place." I pulled out my American Express Centurion and waved it in face. "And I want that car. What do I have to do to drive it off the lot?"

He smiled wickedly, as if he was about to put me in my place. "We'll need some ID, to make sure that card is really yours, and I'll have to run a credit check." I shrugged, but didn't say anything. "Would you like to know a bit about the car before you settle on that one?"

"I've already decided, but you're welcome to share your knowledge with me, if you so choose."

He shrugged now, his hands clasped behind his back. "Well, it's a 2010 Lamborghini Gallardo LP560 Spyder E-Gear. It comes in Rosso Vik or metallic red for the not-so-car-savvy. It has Black Q-Citura leather interior and red stitching, and is equipped with Cordelia rims. It comes with Homelink, Bluetooth, electric and heated seats, anti-theft system, and rear view camera, navigation, and travel package."

"How fast does it go?"

He smiled widely at me. "Its top speed is about two hundred and five miles per hour."

"Sounds good to me. Let's get the paperwork going; I'm in a bit of a rush."

His brow furrowed. "Do you want to know the price?"

I tapped my finger on my lips, before sliding my sunglasses down my nose just enough for him to see my crimson eyes. His jaw dropped and he gasped, taking a few steps back from me. By the sound of his racing heart, I knew he was scared and I smiled just a little. This guy had been an asshole since I walked in, he deserved a little jolt of fear. "I'm guessing around two hundred thousand dollars." I unleashed the full power of my eyes on him and spoke again. "Why don't you take my card and my ID and get that paperwork drawn up for me?" I pressed my card and ID into his hand and then backed off watching as he nodded and turned, practically running away without saying a word. I shoved my sunglasses back up on my nose and strode over to the waiting area.

Forty-five minutes later, the man called me back into his office to sign some paperwork, his cocky attitude now gone. Now, he sat behind his desk, visibly shaken, and constantly dropping things or second guessing himself whenever he handed me papers to sign. Satisfied with his level of fear, I grabbed one of his business cards and shoved it in my pocket. I was fully prepared to call his boss and have him fired for insolence. He handed me back my card and my ID and apologized several times for his rudeness, but I held up my hand to cut him off. I snatched the keys from his hand and walked out to my new car. I climbed in and started up the engine, enticed by its purr. Without a word to the rude dealer, I backed up and sped away, the tires screeching as the back end swung around sharply.

Smiling hugely, I shoved the gas pedal to the floor and sped out of the lot, happy to be back in the States.


	4. What's In Front of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will the ending be ever coming suddenly?  
> Will I ever get to see the ending to my story?  
> Show me what it's for  
> Make me understand it  
> I've been crawling in the dark looking for the answer  
> Is there something more than what i've been handed?
> 
> -Crawling In The Dark by Hoobastank-

-Atlanta, GA 10 August 2009-

"Fuck," I mumbled, tossing the remnants of my pen onto the table and wiping the fresh ink from my lip. I let my eyes wander to where the pen had landed and stared at the remains of the pack I'd bought this morning. Shattered clear plastic and chewed caps lay in a now drying puddle of black ink. I stared intently at the mess, hoping for a distraction from my frustration. Unfortunately, there wasn't one.

I turned my eyes back to the new laptop I'd picked up this morning. The 404-Forbidden error was taunting me. I groaned again, running my hands through my hair. I knew a little bit about hacking, but this database was too difficult for a novice like me. I did, however, know of some professionals who could help.

Frustrated, I stood and began to pace the motel room. I knew what I needed to do; the problem was convincing myself to do it. I chewed my lower lip as I weighed the pros and cons before finally sighing heavily and snatching up my new phone. Dialing the number, I silently prayed it was still theirs.

"Hello," the familiar voice answered.

I let out the breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding and spoke. "Hey Peter, it's Bella."

"Holy shit! Hey baby, how have you been? How long has it been? Fifty, sixty, years?"

I chuckled. "Seventy-nine."

"Oh, right, yeah. So hey, what have you been up to?"

"I've actually just gotten back to the States. I've been traveling Europe since I left."

"Oh yeah, how did that go?"

"Eh, it's nothing special. Amsterdam was just like I imagined it would be."

"Isabella Swan! Was that you?"

I couldn't help but chuckle, knowing he was talking about the two dead American girls. "Guilty."

"I knew it had to be a vampire. You know you started an international incident doing that? INTERPOL is looking for the culprit."

I snorted. "Hey, a girl's got to feed. Listen, I need a favor."

"Sure, babe. You know you're always considered family. It doesn't matter how long we go without talking—we'd still do anything for you. Shoot."

"Well, actually," I hesitated; did I really want to do this? Yes, I needed their help. I didn't have the skills they had. "Is...um...James still with your coven?"

The line went silent for a few minutes before Peter spoke again "Nah, babe, he left to go solo after you did. Said he felt guilty for driving you away." I couldn't contain the sigh of relief that escaped me. I didn't have it in me to deal with James again. "You coming to see us, Bells?"

I smiled to myself at his pet name for me. "Are you still at the same place?"

"You know it. We've been here for almost a hundred and fifty years."

"Nice. I'll be there in a week."

"Great. I'll let Laurent know. You need us to pick you up at the airport?"

I burst out in laughter at this. "Nah, I'm driving. I've got myself a nice ride, so you better prepare Laurent. If he touches my car, I'll tear his head off and toss it in the lake."

Peter laughed with me before speaking again. "Okay, okay, no threatening my mate, babe. We'll see you in a week."

I thanked him and smiled as I heard the click on the other end. I hadn't truly realized how much I'd missed Peter and Laurent until I'd talked to him. I let my mind drift to James as I silently rejoiced that I wouldn't have to deal with him. Peter had said he'd left because he felt guilty for driving me away. I snorted. Leave it to James to play the martyr card. I let myself become consumed by my memories.

I'd found Peter and his coven by accident, just after my sire, the bitch responsible for me being a vampire, had been killed. I'd been lost and hadn't known what to do with new to the vampire life—I was a newborn of only three years—I was relieved when Peter took me in, and I ended up staying with his coven for nine years.

It was about four years after I'd joined the coven that James expressed an interest in me. When he'd come to me and told me he wanted to take me as a mate, I tried to explain to him that my heart belonged to another. He became more persistent as the years went by, telling me I needed to get over the love from my human life. Eventually, he became angry when, after five years, I still hadn't returned his affection. He began trying to force himself on me, and our fights became heated.

The memory of the last fight we'd had came to mind. He had stormed into the living room, demanding physical attention from me. I told him that I couldn't give love, physical or otherwise, to anyone. My heart, and by proxy, my body, would always only belong to him. James grew enraged at my response and lunged at me, knocking me through a window. We both landed, with him on top of me, in the yard behind the house.

He began to force himself upon me, and the human memories of my son's conception came rushing through my mind. I grew scared and closed my eyes, panicked. Last time this has happened to me, I'd been saved. That wouldn't be the case this time. James' fist connected with my jaw as I cried the name I hadn't uttered since before my change. Edward's name.

When James hit me I snapped back into reality. I opened my eyes, remembering I was no longer a weak human in a dark alley; I was his equal in strength. Kicking him off me, I watched as he slammed into the brick wall of the house, crumpling it. He hissed and crouched into a defensive stance in front of me, while I followed suit. We simultaneously lunged at each other's throats, and our bodies crashed against each other. I got the upper hand, landing squarely on top of him. He reached for my throat, and I grabbed his arm, ripping it off and tossing it across the yard. He yelled and bucked his hips, tossing me over his head, making me land on my back. He was on my chest in an instant, his knees pinning my arms down. "You're mine," he growled as his hand wrapped around my throat.

Panicked, I closed my eyes and the face I'd fallen in love with appeared before me. Dazzling green eyes, his unruly bronze hair and crooked smile. Seeing his face gave me strength I didn't know I had. I arched my back off the ground, regaining the use of my arms and shoving James off me. He landed a few feet away from me and I jumped up as he sprang for me again. I launched myself straight up in the air just as he dove toward me, and he landed face down on the ground under me. When I landed it was on his back, facing his feet. In a swift movement, I spun around toward his head, planting my knees firmly on his shoulders. He struggled against my weight as I pressed myself harder against him, grabbing the sides of his head. In one fell swoop, and with all my strength, I yanked his head right off his shoulders, cringing at the sharp metallic tearing sound.

I had just tossed the head away, disgusted with what I'd done, when Peter grabbed my biceps and pulled me away. Although I was repulsed by my actions, I couldn't find it in myself to apologize. Without another word to my coven mates, I'd walked right out of the house and never looked back.

I didn't leave straight for Europe after my departure. First, I went back to Chicago, hoping to find my parents. It was late nineteen-thirty then, and they'd passed on just five years prior due to some kind of accident. It took feeding on five or six humans consecutively to stave off my hunger long enough to see my parent's executor, and even then, I wanted to rip his throat out. I don't to this day know how I managed it. I'd been so young, and while I did try to blend in with humans, it was only something I did when I was hunting. Isolation was the norm for me, and I liked it that way. There was no need to mingle with my prey.

Still, despite the hard time I had, I managed to claim my inheritance, which was quite substantial, and checked the public records while I was there, just to see if I could find something about Edward. The pain I felt from being away from him was insurmountable, but I couldn't help but wonder what happened to him. It was at that time that I'd seen the articles about the influenza outbreak.

I was in Paris six months later, swearing that I would never go back to the States. In the meantime, I'd been everywhere: Russia, Romania, the Middle East, Asia; literally all over the different continents. Forcing myself to focus on my travels had helped me to suppress the heart-wrenching memories of my human life and him. Until twenty-three days ago, that is. I don't know what made that day so special, but for some reason the memories of Edward and my time together all came rushing back, threatening to crush me with the weight of anguish I had never felt at the time.

Yet, here I was, back in the States, doing something I never thought I would, looking for someone I didn't even know if I wanted to find.

**-Allen, MI 17 August 2009-**

I pulled in front of the familiar house, and shut the car off. The sky was overcast and I let out a long drawn-out sigh, hoping I was making the right decision by coming here. It had been so long, but Peter had assured me that I was still welcome. Hopefully, he wouldn't be upset at me for driving away one of his coven members.

I climbed out of the car and made my way toward the house. Before I could knock, Laurent opened the door.

"Bella, hey there!" His French accent wasn't as strong as I remembered, but he still had the same long dreadlocks, and was dressed impeccably well in his red Victorian jacket and frilly sleeved shirt.

He wrapped his muscled arms around me and hugged me tightly before I heard him gasp. "Holy shit, a Lamborghini! Very inconspicuous indeed."

I laughed. "Did Peter pass along my warning?"

Laurent frowned. "Yeah, he did. You're not even going to let me drive it, are you?"

"Nope! Now get Peter—let him know I'm here."

"You suck," he grumbled, before disappearing back into the house.

It was a mere moment before the familiar heavy-set body stepped into the doorway. He still wore the short-cropped black hair and goatee I remembered. His eyes were a deep burgundy color; he was getting thirsty. "Hey there, babe! It's great to have you back. Come on in."

I followed him inside, glancing around at the painfully white walls. The house had always been extremely dull-looking; no pictures and no decorations of any kind. "God, you guys still live in this bland, boring old house?"

Peter chuckled. "What did you expect? We're not nomads like you."

I pursed my lips. "Yeah, you're just mates. I don't see how you can live this close to humans and not feed from them constantly."

"We don't feed here. Usually we go to Detroit to feed; sometimes we'll go a bit farther. We keep to ourselves, though."

I shrugged. "Well, no doubt you don't want the neighbors to know what's living next door. It's such a small town though; I don't see how you can get by with living in it."

"Eh, what can you do?" Laurent said, shrugging his shoulders. "We need the basement space, as you know."

I chuckled. "Right. Seaking of the basement, that's why I'm here. I need you guys to help me get into some records."

Peter and Laurent stared at each other, their mouths hanging open. "Didn't you learn anything from your time with us?" Peter asked.

I shook my head. "No, if you remember I was too busy fighting off James. Last time I checked, computers didn't exist when we lived together. Besides, I knew you guys could help me. I read about that heist. I can't believe you guys pulled that off!"

Laurent's smile became wicked. "What are you after, Bella?"

I matched Laurent's smile in its wickedness. "Get me into the Chicago Public Archives database. I also need you to look up an orphanage. I think it was shut down in the fifties, but their records hopefully survived."

Peter's look was contemplative. "Chicago Public Archives. Have you finally decided to see what became of...?"

I held up my hand to cut him off. "Don't say it. Remember what I told you; never say that name." I paused, pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. "I'm not looking for him. I'm actually looking for my son."

Peter and Laurent shared a look I didn't understand, but nodded and motioned me toward the door to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, I couldn't contain the gasp that escaped my lips. The basement had been renovated since my last stay at this house.

Peter, James, and Laurent had been the equivalent of private investigators when I lived with them all those years ago. No matter how insignificant the information you provided was, they could find a book's worth of data on it. Once computers had come along, I just knew they'd become hackers. I remembered reading about a bank heist in Atlanta. Over two hundred million dollars worth of funds had just disappeared from a Fortune 500 company's bank account. The funds had been stolen electronically, and deposited into an offshore account. However, when the FBI had finally gotten a hold of the account information and gone to investigate, the money was gone. The account number had ended up leading to a man named Peter Anthony Marselles, Peter's given name. When the FBI discovered that Mr. Marselles had been dead for nearly two hundred years, the case went cold. No one had been able to trace anything back to Peter and Laurent, and the company had to declare bankruptcy because of the heist. When I read the article all those years ago, I became inspired, and tried my hand at hacking a few times. I could get into a few places and had tried to hack some college transcripts once, but I couldn't hack anything too secure.

Now, I stood staring at the basement which had once been an office. It looked like a highly sophisticated command center and I instantly thought of War Games.

"I guess you guys made use of those millions." I chuckled.

"You know it, babe," Peter said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He began typing furiously and the huge wall of screens came to life, white text scrolling over different screens. "All right, I'm in the Chicago Archives. What do you want to find?"

"That was quick," I gasped.

He laughed. "Vampire speed, baby. Now, what do you want to find?"

"Look for Swan. Born 1918."

I watched as he typed rapidly on the keyboard. After a moment, one of the screens flickered and a picture sprung up. The man had a sallow face and dark hair. I couldn't make out much, though, because it was in black and white.

"Okay, come have a look at this." I stepped up behind Peter and glanced over his shoulder. He clicked a name and records showed up on the screen. There was a birth certificate, death certificate, and various other records. "Okay, so there's no adoption paperwork here. It looks like he grew up in that orphanage. They gave him the name Geoffrey James Swan." He punched a few buttons and a new record came up. "Oh, look at this: he got married. Let's see, 1943. Looks like her name was Helen McCarty."

I couldn't hold back the smile that spread across my lips. My son had gotten married. "Is there anything else?"

Peter punched the keys again, and I watched as another record came up. "Oh wow, look. He was forty-five when he had a son. Charles Michael Swan."

I gasped and flopped down into a chair next to him. "I have a grandson?"

Peter turned to me, a small smile on his lips. "That's what it looks like." He turned back to his keyboard, and began punching buttons again. After a moment, a list appeared on the screen. "I'm going to print out this list for you. It's a list of every Charles Michael Swan in the country. He'd be about forty-six now, assuming nothing's caused him an early death. You can take the list with you, and maybe you can find him. There are only about six thousand people with that exact that name, which for a country that holds over two billion people, really isn't that much. I wish I could narrow it down more for you, Bella."

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose again. "Any way you could narrow the list down by date and place of birth? We've got his birth certificate in these records; it's got the hospital and everything. Surely you can find him based on that."

Peter shrugged. "Anything for you, babe." He punched a few more buttons and the screens flickered. "Oh, wow. Okay, cool. Check this out. One Charles Michael Swan, born September 12, 1963 in St. Anthony's Hospital in Chicago." His eyes searched the page before he continued reading. "Last known residence: Forks, Washington."

"Forks? I've never heard of that place," I said incredulously. "Can you find anything else?"

Peter shook his head. "Nope. I'm looking at a census record from last year right now. That's the only way I know where he is, or was."

I let out a deep sigh. I had a grandson in Forks, Washington. I had no idea where that even was.


	5. I Look and See Your Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was blessed to get  
> To have you in my life  
> When I look back  
> On these days  
> I'll look and see your face  
> You were right there for me
> 
> -There You'll Be by Faith Hill-

**_-Chicago 1 July 1918-_ ** ****

"I'm surprised I actually convinced you to come out here with me," Edward said as he spread out the blanket and helped me to the ground.

Glancing up at him, I said, "I still think you're going to regret this in the long run. It will be difficult for you to find a bride once it gets out that you courted the town pariah."

Quirking an eyebrow at me, his reply was, "Oh stop. If someone is willing to give up on me because of something as ridiculous as my reputation, then they're not the one for me in the first place."

"You know as well as I do that it's not about love in today's world. It's about station."

He set the picnic basket down and knelt, opening it up and removing our lunch. "Maybe it shouldn't be that way," he said, not looking at me. "Maybe it should be about love. How can anyone be truly happy when they marry for money?"

"I'm not sure. I've always wanted to marry for love, but I fear that it will be impossible now. What man would want me now that I'm tainted?"

He stopped unpacking and looked up at me, his eyes a storm of emotions that I didn't understand. He said nothing as his gaze locked with mine and the air around us became charged. The connection between us in that moment was so intense, it took my breath away. He opened his mouth to say something, and then, as if thinking better of it, he shook his head and turned his attention back to the picnic basket, our connection broken.

As he finished unpacking, he crawled across the blanket and sat down next to me, handing me one of the sandwiches he'd made before we left. I took it from him, tilting my head in thanks and began unwrapping it. We ate in silence, and I couldn't help the pang of guilt that surged through me. I'd promised him that I wouldn't worry about our opposing stations, and I'd just broken that promise.

I turned my attention to him, taking him in. For some reason I didn't understand, this gorgeous man with the strong jaw and the unruly bronze hair wanted to spend time with me. And, while I knew our stations would eventually be the thing that came between us, I couldn't help but want to spend time with him also. The feelings he'd elicited in me since we met were unlike anything I'd felt before, and quite frankly, they scared me.

My biggest fear was that I would get too close to Edward, and then, once he realized exactly what he'd gotten himself into, he'd leave me heartbroken.

As if reading my mind, he turned his gaze to me, his eyes dark and serious. "Do you honestly think so little of me that I would let the whispers and gossip of others sway me from seeing you? How do you know I'm not courting you in the hopes of discovering if you're the one or not? And furthermore, do you think so little of my feelings that you honestly believe I'd just lead you on?"

"I don't know your feelings, Edward. I only know mine. And forgive me if you think I'm being silly, but I just don't want to get hurt."

He reached his hand up, his fingers dancing across my cheek. "You have my word that I will never hurt you," he said with conviction.

Tears blurred my vision as I leaned my head into his touch. "You can't promise something like that. Something will separate us."

He shook his head, bringing his other hand up so that he was cupping my face. "What are you so afraid of? Why are you so negative?"

Sniffling, I brought my hand up, wiping away the tears. "I'm scared of how you make me feel. I fear you may not feel for me the way I feel for you, and it scares me."

"How do you feel for me, Isabella?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.

The air around us became charged once again, and I felt the weight of it threatening to crush me. Realization dawned and the words scrolled through my heart.  _I'm in love with you._  No, I wouldn't say it. It was too soon, and I wasn't ready. So instead, I said, "I really enjoy spending time with you."

"Is that really what you wanted to say?" he asked.

He knew how I felt. There was no doubt as I looked into his eyes. What scared me though was the possibility that what I saw reflecting in his eyes were my own feelings. Swallowing hard, I shook my head. "As long as you're not lying to yourself," he said, pulling his hands from my face and turning back to his lunch.

I sat and watched him eat for several long moments, unable to take my eyes off him. It was as if he'd put a spell on me, entranced me, and I was okay with that because I was in love with him. It was silly, and irrational, and I didn't care. The few short weeks I'd spent with him were enough. My heart belonged to him.

I finally pulled my attention away from him and leaned back against the tree, the knowledge of my feelings both scaring me and lifting me up. Emboldened, I reached down and found his hand, linking our fingers together. The warmth of his touch drew a deep, contented sigh from my lips, and I laid my head against the tree, just relishing in the pleasantness of being with him.

"This place is really beautiful," I said, after a time, glancing around the slightly wooded area. My eyes settled on the wide creek and I couldn't contain the groan that escaped my lips. "I wish I were not pregnant. I would love to go for a swim."

Edward chuckled and squeezed my hand gently. "Well, I will bring you here next summer then, after you have had the baby, and we will go for a swim."

I turned my gaze toward him and smiled hugely. "That would be wonderful!"

He brought my fingers to his lips and kissed them gently, his green eyes dancing. "Do you mind if I ask you something, Isabella?"

I chuckled at him, though secretly my heart leaped at hearing him say my name. "You may ask me anything you would like Mr. Masen. However, I reserve the right not to answer."

His face fell for a moment. "Of course. You don't have to answer if you do not wish." I just smiled at him in encouragement, and waited for his question. He squeezed my hand again, and asked the question I knew would be asked eventually. "Why did Royce King attack you that night? If you don't mind me asking."

My smile fell, and I hesitated, rubbing my belly absently. I had not really told anyone about that night. My parents of course knew who and why, but not even my doctor knew the name of my bastard child's father. Now sitting next to me, the only other person who knew his name, wanted to know why. And I would tell him. I had known for a while that I would, if he ever asked, but was now the right time? We had been seeing each other almost nightly since his birthday. He was every bit the gentleman and I was extremely enamored with him. I decided then, because of my attraction to him, I would tell him.

I glanced over at him, and his eyes were dark, his face serious. I squeezed his hand to let him know I was about to speak, my eyes locked on to his. "Royce was a friend, or well, really a client of my father. As you know, my father is an accountant. He did Royce's taxes for a while. I'm not sure when Royce began to notice me." Edward's face looked confused and I held up a finger to silence him before he began his questioning. "My father worked privately for a long time, and he did not have a public office, so he would bring his clients to the house, to his private office. Anyway, about a year or so ago, Royce began to pursue me. My father had informed me that he was taken with me, and wished to begin courting me.

"My father gave him permission, and he began to try to court me. After several dinners with him, I found that he was not who my father believed. He had this whole other side to him that was just, monstrous. He tended to spend most of his free time drinking and harassing any woman that came into his sight. Whenever I would try to confront him about his habitual drinking, he'd hit me or threaten me in some way. He always had an excuse when my parents would ask how I got the bruises. He'd tell them something ridiculous like I'd run into a door or fallen down some steps. If my parents knew better, they never showed it.

"Rather abruptly, I asked not to see him again. I did not really think anything would come out of it. I honestly thought he would leave me alone." I stopped, my eyes losing focus as I remembered the events leading to my child's conception. "I have always enjoyed going for a walk just before supper time. It is something I have done for many years, first with my mother then, later, alone. That night was no different from the rest; at least I did not think it would be." My eyes began to prick with tears as the green around us faded, and I found myself back on that street. "The things he did...I did not know people did things like that." In my mind I saw him, behind me as he smashed my face against the concrete. "I tried to scream at first, but it did not seem to do any good, he just hit me harder when I did." I stood in the alley now, watching the events of that night all over again. Tears began streaming down my face, I did not stop them.

"Eventually, he slammed my head into the ground hard enough to knock me out. I don't remember anything after that." My face dropped into my free hand and Edward squeezed my other. After a moment, he released my hand and threw his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him. "The p-pain wast-t-t-terrible," I sobbed. "I have never known pain like that." We sat there for an undefined amount of time, with me just crying on his shoulder. "Why did you save me?" I asked after the tears had begun to slow.

Edward stroked my hair and squeezed my right hand, now being held by his left. "Forgive me for bringing that up. I should not have let my curiosity get the best of me. I hope you can forgive me." I nodded into his chest and waited for him to answer my question. He did not.

Sometime later, I pushed away and leaned my back against the huge oak. "This really is a huge tree," I said in an attempt to break the silence.

He nodded. "It is. My mother used to bring me here when I was younger. I have always loved this place, and have wanted to bring you here since we met. It's beautiful here, but I dare say it pales in comparison to you." He turned his gaze toward me, a small smile on his lips. "There is something I would like to do. If it bothers you, feel free to tell me, please. I promise I will not be offended."

A knot formed in my stomach, but I nodded. I trusted Edward, he wouldn't hurt me. He released my right hand and brought his left up to stroke my cheek gently. His eyes sparkled as he began to lean into me. My breath hitched in my throat, and for a moment fear shot through me. I struggled to fight it back, as he brought his face ever closer to mine. Our noses were touching when he stopped. "You are trembling," he whispered, not pulling away. "Are you frightened of me?"

I swallowed hard and shook my head. "No," I breathed.

"I will never hurt you, Isabella," he all but whispered. My body was telling me to run, but I willed it not to; I trusted him. He leaned in finally, closing the small distance, and his lips met mine. The kiss was gentle and soft, just a feather's touch, and my heart burst into overdrive. As quickly as it started, it ended. He pulled back and stared at me, his eyes glazed slightly. I stared at him for a long moment before I smiled slightly. He smiled too and leaned forward to press his lips to mine again.

**_-Chicago 1 September 2009-_ ** ****

It was strange being here again after so many years. The city had changed so much from when I lived here as a human. I noted the different landmarks and buildings as I drove through the dark city. Tonight was about closure. I wanted to be rid of all my demons when I arrived in Forks. If Peter was right, and there was a fresh start waiting for me, I wanted my slate to be clean.

I knew where I was going. My thoughts were dark as I thought about my destination. There were only two ways this could end. The first was with me successfully ridding myself of the taint this man had left on my life. The second, which I was most scared would actually happen, would be with me breaking down and losing it. Though this was the possibility that scared me, I hoped that I would be strong enough to resist it. I would be damned if I'd let this man keep his hold on me from the grave.

With a heavy sigh, I pulled up in front of the graveyard and shut off the engine. The records I'd pulled up at Peter's indicated that this was where he'd been buried, so it was just a matter of finding which plot was his. A cold chill ran down my spine as I stepped out of the car. The weather tonight was so much similar to that night that I couldn't contain the tinge of fear that coursed through me.

I swallowed back the fear. He had no power over me. He was dead; I was not. Squaring my shoulders, I began looking for the marker with his name on it. I wasn't sure exactly which one was his, but I had all night, so there was no rush. Besides, this was about me.

Twenty minutes later, I stood there, staring down at the stone, anger flooding through me. Just seeing his name had me seething.  _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all_ , I thought. No, I needed closure, and I wasn't going to let him rob me of that like he'd robbed me of my innocence. Setting my jaw and squaring my shoulders, my eyes scanned the words carved into the stone.

_Royce King II_

_January 3, 1898 - October 13, 1933_

_He was taken far too early._

He was thirty-five when he died. That was fifteen years after he'd raped me. According to the news reports he'd been murdered. I couldn't contain my curiosity as I wondered what had happened. Had he pissed off a loan shark and gotten his ass shot? Maybe he'd gotten into some trouble with the Mob. Whatever had happened to him, it was too good. This man was a monster and deserved to die a monster's death. He should have been tortured and killed slowly.

My gaze moved to the third line of the stone, and I hissed.  _He was taken far too early_. The words burned into my brain over and over. I seethed as I took it in, again and again. How I wished I'd been the reason he'd been taken too early. I should have come back and ended his life myself. I could only hope that I was only victim. God forbid he'd hurt someone else the way he'd hurt me.

I spit on the ground under my feet and threw my fist into the stone, anger surging through me. The headstone broke into several chunks of varying sizes, leaving just a stump in the ground. "Motherfucker!" I growled and turned to walk back to my car. There were a few more places I wanted to visit before I left. Starting the engine, I began my drive toward another place I hadn't seen in decades.

My mind wandered, and that was fine with me. The last I thing I wanted right now was to focus too hard on what I was doing. This whole visit was about closure, about facing my demons and coming to terms with reality. I couldn't let myself get too engrossed in what I was doing though. I wasn't sure what would happen if I did; I might turn and run.

It was a short time later when I pulled in front of the first house on my list. I shut off the engine and climbed out; staring intently at what was now a rundown, condemned building. After glancing up and down the street, I walked up the familiar steps to the door. As my fingers wrapped around the handle, my memory flashed to Edward and how he would kiss the back of my hand before dropping me off. A knot formed in my throat, and I pushed the memory aside.  _Closure_ , I reminded myself.

With a confident breath, I pushed the door open and stepped in, gasping as I took in the foyer. Closing the door behind me, I walked further in, glancing around at the crumbling walls and torn up floor. This house had not been part of my inheritance. In their will, my parents had wished for it to be sold and for the money to be given to me, so that's what happened. When I'd come back, years after they'd died to claim my inheritance, I'd not bothered to find out what would become of this place. Now, seeing it as it was, I wished I had.

The panes of glass in the bay window in the foyer were broken, and there was plastic covering it. Cobwebs hung from every corner of the room and the once white walls were a dirty brownish yellow color. There were holes everywhere, revealing the studs and insulation behind. The floor, which had once been a beautiful cherry wood, was riddled with holes as well, all of varying sizes and shapes. It looked nothing like the house I remembered.

Carefully, I walked through the foyer and into the kitchen. All the appliances were gone, and the counter on the island was cracked down the middle. This room was in no better condition than the previous one, and a quick inspection of the rest of the downstairs revealed the same. No wonder it had been condemned.

Coming back into the foyer, I glanced up the flight of stairs to the second floor, where the bedrooms were. Closing my eyes, I remembered coming down those stairs and seeing Edward standing at the bottom waiting for me. My breathing hitched, and I became aware of the torrent of anguish that was threatening to break through the dam I'd put up. Swallowing hard, I fought against it, taking deep breaths in hopes of calming myself.

After several minutes in which I wasn't sure I'd be able to continue, I opened my eyes and glanced up the stairs again. Swallowing hard and squaring my shoulders, I began the climb. I took the steps slowly, as if there was something bad waiting for me at the top, and I was trying to delay the confrontation. Maybe that was the case.

Setting foot on the landing, the first room on the left belonged to my parents. Tentatively, I pushed the door open and stepped in. This is where they'd been found, dead. I glanced up at the ceiling and saw the hole where the heavy beam had fallen and crushed them in their sleep. Though the beam was gone, I could still see some of the splintered wood pieces on the ground. The newspaper had listed their death as a freak accident, the result of a house that wasn't properly taken care of.

I sighed, turning to leave the room. The next room on the right was my room, and as I pushed the door open, my mind flooded with memories. This was the room I'd delivered my bastard son in. Standing there was almost unbearable. Edward had been here too. He'd stood at my side when I'd given birth, something that was uncommon, even for fathers. Yet, he didn't care. He stood at my side because I asked him to. Letting out a shaky breath, I forced the memories away and left the house. Two more stops to go.

Several minutes later, I pulled up to the second house on my list and shut the engine off. Looking out the window, I took in the immaculate façade. Of course  _this_  house would be taken care of. It stood in one of the higher end parts of town, and from the look of it, it was occupied. It didn't surprise me that it looked pretty much the same as it had when he'd owned it. Maybe his family lived in it. Knowing it was probably a bad idea, but deciding to find out anyway, I climbed out of the car, thankful for the cover of dark.

As I got to the door, I let my eyes scan the house up close. It was in great condition, and probably had some of its older components restored. My hand hovered over the knocker for just a moment as I contemplated whether I wanted to do this or not. After a moment, I sighed and grabbed the knocker, lifting it and then letting it drop.

The door opened, moments later, and in the doorway stood an elderly woman. She appeared to be in her sixties with wiry gray hair and sharp blue eyes. A pair of bifocals rested on the bridge of her nose, making her look more her age. When she saw me she smiled ruefully.

"Can I help you, young lady?"

"Forgive me for bothering you," I said. "My family lived in this house back in the early 1900s and I was just curious to see if the house still looked the same."

She moved out of the doorway and motioned for me to enter. "Come in." I nodded, and slipped past her and into the house. I couldn't contain my gasp as I took in the familiar surroundings. The house looked almost exactly the same as it had back then, the only difference being the furniture. "May I ask your name, miss?" the old woman asked, brushing past me and into the main sitting area.

Following behind her, I let my gaze take everything in. "Um, my name is Isabella Masen. My great grandfather owned this house."

"You're Edward Masen's great-granddaughter? It's appropriate that you're named Isabella then." She sat down on a couch against the northern wall and waved her hand toward the matching love seat to the right.

My brow furrowed as I sat down. What did she mean by that statement? I decided to ask. "May I ask what you mean?"

She quirked an eyebrow at me, and I got the sense that I was missing a key piece of information. "He never told you this story?" Tentatively, I shook my head. "Oh," she said. "Well my father was a friend of Edward's. Apparently, Edward fell in love with this young girl named Isabella. According to my father, she was considered a pariah because she'd gotten pregnant out of wedlock. That didn't stop Edward though. Daddy said he fell hard for her."

I didn't realize I was hyperventilating at first. It wasn't until the woman looked at me questioningly that I realized I must have had a bad reaction to her story. I swallowed a few times, attempting to calm myself. As my breathing slowed, I glanced over at the woman and gave her an apologetic look. "Forgive me. My asthma has been acting up lately." Was that really the best I could come up with?

I wasn't sure if she bought it or not, but it apparently didn't matter because she continued her story as if I'd never interrupted. "Anyway, one night, Isabella just up and disappeared. Nobody knows what happened to her. According to my father, Edward was frantic, trying to find her. He posted fliers and spent all of his free time trying to find her. When the flu hit, he stayed until his parents passed, then left Chicago. No one has seen or heard from him since."

Biting my lip, I took in what she'd just told me. Edward had tried to find me. Then, once his parents died, he'd just left. "I never knew that. He never told any of us."

She nodded, leaning forward a little in her seat. "Apparently he got over her, if you're here. I can understand why he'd never tell anyone though. I can't imagine it's easy to relive."

"I doubt it is," I said, speaking the first true statement to the woman since I'd met her. "So what happened to this house?"

"Edward sold it to the Cullen family. They've owned it ever since. I'm just renting it."

I rose to my feet, gazing around the room once more. "I apologize for intruding on you. I was just passing through and I remember seeing a picture of this house when I was growing up. I figured since I was here, I'd see what happened to it."

She stood as well, waving her hand at me. "No need to apologize, dear. I can't blame you for wanting to see it. Oh," she said, her eyes getting large as she came up to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Some of Edward's belongings are still in this house. Most of the original décor has stayed the same over the years. The only real difference is that I brought my own furniture. Anyway, since that's the case, some of Edward's things got left behind. Since you're family, it only seems right that you take it."

Holding my hands up, I shook my head. "There's no need for that. If it got left here, I'm sure the Cullens have plans for it." I didn't know if I could handle being given something of his.

Apparently the old lady didn't hear me, because she turned on her heel and disappeared into the other room. A few moments later she came out with three items in her hand. One was a book of some kind, most likely a journal. The second item appeared to be a velveteen jewelry box, and the third item was a stack of papers.

The woman carried the items right up to me, and nodded. Resigned, I held my hands out and she placed the items in them. "I'm not sure why the Cullens kept all of this. My only guess is that they bought the house and never bothered to come clear it out. It's fine with me though. I like the old style décor. Like I said, you're family, so this stuff is pretty much yours. I'm sure Doctor and Mrs. Cullen won't mind, and if they do, they can tack it onto my rent for the next few months."

My hands trembled as my fingers wrapped around the stack of items. Swallowing hard, I met the old woman's gaze and gave her a half smile. "I can't thank you enough for this," I said truthfully.

She smiled and patted my shoulder. "It's the least I could do." I gave a nod, clutching the items to my chest as she led me out of the door.

Without another word, I stepped out and heard the door shut behind me. I looked down at the items in my hands – his possessions – and I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. A sob escaped my lips and I bolted toward the car, not caring if I was moving at human or vampire speed. When I got in, I set the items in the passenger seat, and sped off to the only other place I wanted to visit while I was here.

It was just as beautiful now as it had been then. The huge oak, if it was possible, had doubled in size, but everything else remained the same. I walked over to the tree and pressed my trembling hand against it, remembering the feel of his lips on mine. I closed my eyes, still feeling agony course through me. In the cemetery, I was angry, but that had worn off. Now, I was hurting, and it was becoming harder and harder to maintain my resolve. I hadn't expected what I had learned at his old house. To hear that he'd gone searching for me, and then just disappeared was terrible, but what made it worse was being given some of his things that had been left behind. I wanted to run away from this pain, to not have to feel it ever again. I knew, however, that it would do no good. No matter where I went, this would follow me. I mentally kicked myself for coming here. This visit had turned out to be nothing like what I'd intended. I'd expected to find closure here. Instead, it only reopened the wound.

I yanked my hand away from the tree and screamed, loud, violent, bloodcurdling. "You took everything from me," I shouted at the sky. "Do you hear me? _Everything!_ " My eyes were stinging, but I knew the tears wouldn't come, they never did. I dropped to the ground, on my knees and began slamming the side of my fist against the grass. "Why did you give me heaven if you were just going to take it from me? Why did you make me this monster?"

My family had always taught me to believe in a higher power, and now as I knelt here on the ground, I realized that if there was a higher power, an all powerful god, he was cruel and unjust. What had I done to deserve this? My innocence had been stolen while I was human, and that was terrible enough. However, the memories from that night didn't haunt me the way losing my love had.

Edward had saved me in so many ways, and I had thanked God for that – the same god who decided to take him from me by making me this terrible monster. Really, that's exactly what I was. To human eyes I was an ethereal beauty, an angel. Honestly though, I was a demon in disguise, a disguise that I used to kill humans for sustenance. I began punching the ground again, trying to release the anger.

"Why?" I screamed. I finally collapsed to the ground onto my side and pulled my legs to my chest as silent sobs overtook me.

I thought about my grandson, Charles Swan. Why had I even bothered to look him up? Did I really think I would be able to control myself enough to not kill him? And what would I tell him if I showed up at his door? 'Hi, I'm your grandmother, Isabella Swan.' Through the pain, I chuckled at the thought. How ridiculous could I have been to come back here and look for him? There was no way I could go see him, talk to him.

I thought back to my time in Europe, how numb I had been. I'd felt that way ever since the night that took me from my Edward. Then, out of nowhere, I suddenly looked at the date and decided to look up my family. Why? My numbness had vanished too. I was completely raw – no armor, no protection against the waves of pain. It was as if coming back to the states reminded me of all the things I'd lost.

In truth, the only loss I felt was Edward. Even now, I could feel the absence in my chest. My heart died a long time ago, but now it was as if I'd never had a heart to begin with. I felt hollow and empty and all I wanted to do was die. I knew I would never see him again, but I ghosted by, day after day. What for? There was no hope. He would be dead by now, having lived out a long life. I wanted to die too. I began to pray just then. I prayed that there was something else for vampires after death. That we didn't just disappear when we stopped living as vampires. I asked the same god who had failed me, to please let me come home to my Edward. Would he be waiting for me?

I squeezed my legs tighter. Could vampires even die? I thought back to my sire, yes, they could. She had gone down quickly, ripped apart and burned. Perhaps I could find a vampire coven that would do away with me; like that southern coven had done with her. I remembered my travels to Italy, and a story about a vampire coven there. Not  _a_  coven,  _the_  coven, the ruling coven in our world. Maybe they could help me. You didn't provoke the Volturi unless you wanted to die, that's what I'd been told.

Yes, that would do. I would go back to Italy and provoke them. All I had to do was expose what I was to the humans. I could do that and be with Edward again. Or perhaps not. What if I was wrong? What if I went to Italy and succeeded at my own demise, only to find that there was nothing for me waiting on the other side? It would be for nothing. Pain ripped through me again then. My heaven was lost – gone to me. I would never see my beloved Edward again. I sobbed, pulling my knees tighter close to me and squeezing them hard. Even in death we wouldn't be together.

James' words buzzed through my head just then. "Look at you, crying over the love of a human. Let me tell you something, Isabella, if you went back to him, he would die, by your hand most likely. In the throes of passion, you would kill him, just by forgetting your strength, or you would drain him. Humans aren't meant to be companions and lovers; they're food, that's it."

I remembered how I had wanted to tell him he was wrong; to tell him that I would never feed on Edward. However, the truth was, I probably would have. I knew now that I could never have been with Edward after my change. James had been right. I was just too dangerous. I craved human blood, and if I had gotten my teeth into him, I wouldn't have been able to stop. It was just the nature of vampires. Whenever we tasted human blood, we went into a sort of frenzy, and it was nearly impossible to stop.

My agony was quickly replaced with anger. Again, I wanted to curse the god that gave me this immortal life. How I wished I had just died in that alley. If Royce had killed me, I would have never met Edward and fallen in love with him. At the same time, I wouldn't be here, alone, and a monster. I dug my palms into my eyes and screamed again. For ninety one years I had been numb, never wanting to remember, never wanting to forget. I was numb, not allowing myself to feel anything, just ghosting through my existence. I couldn't do it anymore though. The pain I had locked away was leaking out now, crashing into me over and over again. Dry sobs raked through my body and all I wanted at that moment was for death to take me. It had been so long ago. Why could I not let him go?

I screamed again, unable to release the pain and anger that were bottled up inside me. I thought of James' words, letting them play as a mantra in my head. Edward had lived his life. He had gone on and had beautiful children. He had grown old and died the way humans were supposed to, I was sure of it. I had an eternity ahead of me, and since he was gone, I had to find a way to get past this pain. There was no point in suffering. I decided then to tuck away the pain as best I could. I would never forget him, of that I was sure, but perhaps I could find that space where it did not hurt anymore. I gritted my teeth and pushed off the ground. There would never be happiness for me again; I would always be this empty shell. However, I found peace in the hope that he lived on and had a long life. Nothing else mattered to me now. I forced all the feelings out of me, letting myself slip into a place where I didn't care anymore.

Determined, I trudged ahead to my car, ready to continue my existence without Edward Masen. The pain didn't subside; I simply forced myself to focus on something else. Something I should have done years ago, an obligation I would complete before I fled from the pain that being back here brought.

I thought about Charles Swan, my grandson. I wanted to meet him, to see what kind of family he had, but I simply couldn't do it. I wouldn't risk his life by being selfish. Besides, he would be better off never knowing me; all I would do is bring drama into his life. No, I would complete this final task, and then I would leave Edward and the States behind for good.


	6. Not Able to Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My abandoned heart  
> Just doesn't understand  
> My undying love for you  
> Won't let me wait
> 
> -Come Back to Me by Janet Jackson-

**-Corpus Christi 20 September 2009-**

"What are we doing here?" Peter asked from the passenger seat.

"We're here for vengeance," I said in a dead monotone voice. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter twist in his seat, and he and Laurent shared a concerned look. "What?" I asked my voice just as cold and hollow as before.

Peter turned his attention back to me, his chubby face going slightly green. "Um, how many are there exactly? And who are we avenging?"

"There's only three, or there were only three last time I was here. And we're avenging my sire." Normally, I would have made a snide comment about having to explain everything, but in truth, I just didn't care. This was an obligation, nothing more.

"Okay, three we can handle. There are three of us."

I tilted my head in a slight nod. "Hence why I asked you come."

"I'm just curious," Laurent started, leaning forward so we could hear him even though he didn't need to. "Why are we doing this? I mean, you hated your sire, you've said so numerous times."

My eyes met his in the rear view mirror. "Yes, I hate Irina for what she's done to me. She took my life away. Still, there were numerous times she saved my ass, and in her own way, she took care of me for the three years I was with her. Although I hate what she made me, I can't honestly blame her, turning others is part of vampire nature, and she would have avenged me."

"You're sure about that?" Peter asked.

"Yep," I said with finality. There was no doubt in my mind that Irina would have avenged me. I may have resented her for turning me, but from her end, she loved me like a daughter.

Peter stared at me for a long time, his eyebrows creased with concern. "When was the last time you fed, Bella?" I shrugged. It didn't matter. "Are you feeling weak? God, your eyes are as black as I've ever seen."

I slammed on the brakes, effectively killing the engine. I grumbled for a moment wiggling the gearshift into neutral. I wheeled around on him, anger apparent on my face. "Will you stop that? I feel fine, and who gives a shit about my eyes? We're not going to be around humans. We're just taking down a few vampires."

His eyes bulged, and he stared at me for a long second before finally speaking. "That's the first hint of emotion you've shown since we got here. What the hell happened to you after you left our place? I thought you were going to see your grandson."

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Drop it, please. We're almost there." Without another word or glance, I turned back to the road, started the car and slipped it into first. I doubted they would let this ridiculousness drop, but then again, I really didn't care. My mind drifted away to the last time I was here, and I let the memories wash over me.

From this distance, the house looks more like a shack. It's only the size of a large bedroom, and I can't tell from outside, but I could swear that there is a bathroom in the same room as the kitchen and bedroom. I stifle a chuckle as I follow my sire, Irina, up to it. "What are we doing here?" I ask.

She turns to me, her pretty smile gracing her pale face. "We are meeting with some friends of mine. I know you are still young and not familiar with vampire culture yet, but I must warn you, these gentlemen do not appreciate young girls with smart mouths. You would do well to keep yours shut."

"Vampire culture," I snort. She growls and turns away from me, closing the remaining distance to the house. I follow. An eerie feeling crawls up my spine just then, and I can't help but feel a bit of panic. We finally get to the door. She's standing in front of me, and she knocks – is that...Shave and a Haircut? I chuckle out loud; Irina and her vampire friends have a "secret" knock? My chuckle immediately dies down as the door swings open, revealing a very large, muscular, dark-skinned vampire. Behind him is a much shorter, slightly lighter-skinned vampire, and I cannot help but wonder if I could rest my hand on his head without having to bend my arm.

"What are you doing here?" the short one asks in a thick southern drawl, and now I can't help but panic because he doesn't sound happy to see Irina.

A wicked sneer spreads across her face, and I take a few steps back, holding my hands up in defense. Then she speaks, and suddenly I know that I'm going to die this night. "Eleazar, we have come to claim your coven. Of course to do that, we must kill you." I gulp, still stepping back. The big one glances at me as I stand behind her, and I recognize the look in his eyes. It's a look I've seen just one other time, and that was in a dark alley. I panic now. What has she gotten us into?

Eleazar, the short one, who I can't see now, speaks. "Well, well, well. You get banished from my coven, and now you dare to come back and try to take it over. Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into, Irina? I'm over two thousand years old; do you honestly think you can destroy me?" And then he steps around her and I see him for the first time, his swirling black eyes piercing me to the core. He sneers at me and then speaks, his voice alone enough to send me running. "Young one, I do believe it would best if you left before something very bad happens." His words ring with truth, and I know this is the only warning I'll be given.

Irina's reply seals our fate. "I will not abide this, Eleazar. You will die for the humiliation you've caused me." As the last word exits her mouth, she dives over the threshold, slamming hard into him. Out of nowhere, a third tall, lanky vampire appears, grabbing her and throwing her out the door.

He looks at the big one, his face angry. "Deal with this nonsense!" The big one smiles in a way that would chill my blood, if it still ran in my veins, and turns to us. His eyes are trained on me, and I do the only thing I can think of—I run. The last thing I hear is a strange metallic ripping, and somehow I know I'll never see Irina again.

I made the final turn onto the long stretch of road and came out of my memories. To this day, I still didn't know what Irina thought she would accomplish by "claiming" Eleazar's coven. In my mind, there was nothing to claim; just three vampires shacked up together.

Peter and Laurent remained quiet, not bothering with the third degree anymore, and for that, I was grateful. We finally pulled up to the familiar shack, and I wasn't surprised to see that it looked exactly the same as before. I killed the engine and twisted in my seat so I could see both of them. "All right guys, this is the place. There's a small one, a really big one, and a lanky one. Unless they've added to their ranks in the last eighty-eight years, we shouldn't have a problem."

Peter nodded, his gaze trained on me. "What happens when we're done here, Bella?"

I shrugged. I didn't care. A small part of me hoped not to make it past this night. "Does it matter?"

He rolled his eyes, grumbling as he turned and climbed out of the car. I climbed out too, followed by Laurent, and the three of us marched up to the house. The door swung open, and standing in the doorway, was the huge dark-skinned vampire. Instantly, I compared him to John Coffey from the Green Mile. This must be the guy that character was based on. I just knew it. And in the split seconds before my doom hit me, I began to wonder if Stephen King was secretly a vampire.

The idea was out of my head as quickly as it entered, because suddenly the big one launched himself at me, slamming me to the ground. He was heavy even by vampire standards, and all my fighting was for naught. He grabbed the sides of my head, and I began to feel an uncomfortable stretching sensation in my neck. I closed my eyes, suddenly hopeful that there was something waiting for me on the other side – that he was waiting. The stretching had just begun to turn to tearing when, all of a sudden, it was gone. I opened one eye and saw Peter and Laurent standing in front of me, both in defensive crouches.

I jumped up, landing square on my feet behind them, and dropped down into my own crouch. The big guy was no longer alone. Eleazar and the lanky one now joined him, crouched and ready to spring. The big one's eyes settled on me, and he hissed, grinning wickedly. I spotted his movement half a second before he made it and managed to get out of the way when he launched himself at me. He growled and turned toward me, diving for me again.

I dodged him several more times but was unlucky the final time, and he caught me, flinging me like a rag doll to the ground. I landed on my back and saw him in the air in mid-jump. I managed to roll out the way and kicked myself off the ground in one swift movement. He was back up, too, and already coming at me again.

I groaned and rolled my eyes, launching myself into the air as he ran underneath me. Just as I landed on the ground, I heard him behind me coming at me yet again. Expertly, I back-flipped, landing square on his shoulders and wrapping my legs tight around his neck. In a swift movement, I yanked his head off and tossed it away. He crumpled to the ground with me on top of him. I began to dismember him, tossing all the pieces into a neat little pile.

Finally free, I turned to see how Laurent and Peter were doing. Two columns of purple smoke billowed out behind them, and Peter turned to me, a satisfied smile spreading over his pudgy face. He tossed me a tiny box of matches, and without a word, I turned to the piles of vampire behind me and struck one, tossing it down. The pile ignited, and I stepped back as the fire immediately erupted, purple smoke shooting up to the sky.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Peter standing next to me. "I guess this is it then, eh?"

"Yep, there's nothing for me here now." The truth of my words rang in my ears, and still, I just didn't care about anything.

He shook his head. "You're wrong, you know. You've got a grandson. You've got something none of us has anymore—family."

"Whatever," I mumbled, my tone dead and empty.

He turned me to face him, his hands resting on both of my shoulders. "Why did you come back here?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure myself. I was content with things until I came back here. Now everything has been fucked up."

He rolled his eyes and shook me gently. "You came back here to find your family, so obviously you weren't content. I don't know what's been running through that head of yours, but whatever it is, you need to let it go. Go. Meet your grandson. Who knows, maybe there's a new start for you in Forks. Maybe it's time you stopped wandering around."

His words went in one ear and out the other. The emptiness was all there was, and I couldn't find the strength to even absorb his words. "Look, I need to get going. Will you guys drop me at Corpus Christi International? And here," I said, handing him a key. "This goes to a storage unit. In the glove box is the address and unit number. Put the car in there. I'll come back for it eventually."

He sighed and shook his head. "I can't believe you're running." He stood for a moment, his face contemplative as his eyes darted everywhere but to me. After what felt like three minutes, he finally settled his gaze back on me. "If you ever come back, look us up. You're always welcome." He threw his arm around my shoulders, and the three of us silently walked back to the car.

**-Antarctica 31 October 2009-**

I pulled myself up on to the shore and slumped onto the hard ground. The swim from the Falkland Islands took the last vestiges of my strength. I hadn't fed since before my trip to Chicago, and even after my plane landed in Brazil, I couldn't bring myself to care enough to be enticed by the human smell that hung in the air. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the sky. This would be my home now, isolated, alone, and uncaring. For a brief moment, Peter's words echoed in my mind. Who knows, maybe there's a new start for you in Forks. A new start in Forks? I pushed the idea out of my head. It didn't matter – nothing mattered.

I had been a fool to go back to the U.S. Finding out about Charles Swan had been a small glimmer of hope, but going to Chicago had ruined it. The memories of my human life with Edward had overridden everything else. Being there had brought everything to the forefront of my mind, and I simply couldn't let it go. The emptiness was soul-shattering. It consumed me.

As I lay on the frozen bank of the coldest place on earth, all I wanted to do was melt into the ground and never have to face my pain again. A dry sob escaped my lips, and I closed my eyes, letting the waves of pain wash over me. Behind my lids, I saw emerald green eyes and messy bronze hair. The image of his face, smiling that crooked smile at me, was too much, and I wailed as my body began to tremble from the pain.

"Go away, God damn it," I yelled, hoping the image would leave my brain. It didn't I curled up on my side, drawing my knees to my chest, my body wracked with sobs.

"Fuck," I cried. "Please just let me forget. I want to forget."

His face stayed there, taunting me, tormenting me, and while he smiled at me, I began to notice the encroaching darkness surrounding him. It had been so long since I'd fed, that I felt like I was passing out. Soon the abyss would come and carry me away. I only hoped that when the blackness finally covered me, it would take me to a place where he didn't exist. Because, if I was being honest, I didn't think I could stand much more of this.

**-Antarctica 10 January 2010-**

I was faintly aware of the sound of voices. Where was I? What was going on? Something broke through the haze for a moment. An unfamiliar voice. "...and I can't believe she's alive." The voice was deep and masculine sounding, laced with concern. Were they talking about me?

There was a second, slightly higher pitched voice. "Well, of course she's alive, she's still immortal, you know." The haze clouded my mind again. What? Who was immortal? I tried to think back to the last thing I remembered. Oh yes, that was it, those wonderful words that had made my heart soar. "Isabella Swan, I am completely in love with you." That's right. I remembered now. His emerald eyes had sparkled as he confessed his feelings for me. I had told him that I was in love with him as well. Confusion washed over me. What happened next? Yes, I remembered again. After he'd spoken the words, his deliciously soft lips had met mine in the most wonderful kiss.

So where was I now? It was windy. Was I outside? Who were the people talking? It sounded like there were two voices, men I think. Who was the immortal person? Was she with them? How did they know she was immortal? The biggest question of all coursed through my brain just then—where was Edward?

Panic hit me; I needed to get back to my family. My mother had to know about this new development. Would he propose to me? Oh, I hoped so. I desperately wanted to be Edward Masen's wife.

Suddenly, the first voice broke through the haze again. "She's coming around." Now I heard the shuffle of feet on – was that gravel? There was a hand on my cheek, was it his? Was my Edward here with me? Hope swelled in my chest, but something was wrong. My heart usually raced when he touched me. The hope died. This wasn't him. The voice spoke again, more clearly this time. "Bella, it's Peter. Do you know where you are?"

Peter? Who was Peter? For that matter, who was Bella? No one called me that. My name was Isabella. Maybe it was a nickname for another Isabella so that we wouldn't be confused. I didn't know another Isabella, but maybe that's who this Peter person was talking to.

Who was touching my face? "I think she's delusional. She keeps saying his name," the second voice said.

The hand on my face began slapping me gently. Someone must be trying to rouse me from my haze. My hearing sharpened ever so slightly, and I heard a rush of water. Was it a lake – Lake Michigan perhaps? I must be on a beach or something. I shifted uncomfortably on the ground. It didn't feel like sand. It was hard—rocky feeling.

The first voice spoke again. "God, look at her. Romero's zombies look better than she does. Laurent, get one of the crew over here right now." The voice was close when it spoke again, and I felt a cool breath on my cheek. "Don't worry, babe. We're going to take care of you. You'll be just fine."

I panicked again. What was happening? Who was this man talking to me? Where was I? Where was Edward? Surely if something was happening to me, he would be here, right? Maybe he didn't know. Somebody needed to tell him. I needed him here with me.

I tried to say his name. The sound of my voice shocked me. It was a garbled whisper. For the first time since hearing the voices, I felt a burning sensation in my throat. What was that? Was I on fire or something? God it hurts. Even childbirth wasn't this painful.

The second voice came again, only now it was speaking some other language. I didn't recognize it. A third voice joined in, obviously responding to the second voice. There was a shuffle of feet, and the second voice spoke again, English this time. "Okay, here he is. I asked for the doc. He's agreed to take a look at her."

The first voice spoke again, close to my ear. "Open your eyes, babe, and look at me." Open my eyes? Was that why I couldn't see? I concentrated hard, trying to force my eyes open. They did, and a bright light bore into them. I screeched and closed them again. The voice spoke once more. "Come on, babe, open up." There was a scream, and a sudden alluring scent drifted toward my nose. The smell was sweet and oh so delicious, and my mouth watered. It had to taste as good as it smelled; it was a crime if it didn't.

An animalistic and feral sound escaped my lips. Did I really just do that? It didn't matter in that moment because the wonderful scent was close. I licked my lips; I had to have it, whatever it was.

"Feed," the now familiar first voice commanded. Instinctively I opened my mouth, feeling something warm press against my lips. There was a sudden rush of warm, delicious nectar. God himself could not have created something this divine. I drank greedily, my senses heightening as the liquid rushed down my throat. I moaned, feeling the odd burn in my throat begin to cool slightly. All too soon, the nectar was gone, and I was left wanting more.

"I'll bring another," the second voice said. There was a shuffle of feet disappearing into the distance.

"Open your eyes, Isabella," the first voice commanded. I did as I was told, and I couldn't help but gasp. It was pitch black here. The light from before must have been artificial. Yet despite the lack of light, I could see everything with perfect clarity. A face appeared in front of me, a man's face. He was chubby with short dark hair and a goatee. His eyes were a blazing crimson. I swallowed hard, fear chilling my body.

"Do you know who I am? Do you know where you are, Isabella?" I panicked, why did the voice sound familiar? I squeezed my eyes shut just as I heard more shuffling. My eyes popped open of their own accord, and the infernal light was back. I screeched again, forcing my eyes closed, and shutting out the light. "You need to feed some more," the voice said.

The wonderful scent wafted toward me again, a bit different this time, maybe a bit spicy, but still somehow the same. I opened my mouth again and felt the warmth against my lips. The rush of nectar filled my mouth, and I slurped and drank, taking it in as if it were my lifeline. Sooner than expected, the nectar was gone, again. My stomach felt full, as if I'd overeaten on Thanksgiving or Christmas. The horrible burning sensation in my throat was completely gone for the moment, and I sighed, content.

The second voice rang in my ears. "Wow, talk about an improvement. She's starting to look normal again. See how her cheeks aren't as hollow; she doesn't look too much like a corpse now."

The first voice chuckled and spoke. "True, but she's still not the beauty she was. I'm afraid it may take months to get her back to looking like before." The tone became serious now. "I'm more worried about her mind. She keeps mumbling his name. I don't think she's aware of anything that's happened." I felt a hand on my face again as the voice continued. "Open your eyes, babe. Look at me."

I did as I was told again, and as my eyes settled on the chubby man's crimson ones, memories began to flood my brain: Edward's confession of love, the walk, my change. Everything flashed through my mind, and I let out a scream that would have woken the dead. It was long, blood-curtling, and sorrowful.

As my scream died down, I looked into the now recognizable face of Peter. "I'm so sorry," he whispered in a broken voice.

"How long has it been?" I managed to choke out.

His face twisted with an expression of pain that I'm sure mirrored mine. "It's January tenth. You've been here for approximately seventy days."

"Oh, God," I gasped, rolling to my side and curling in on myself. Hoping to slip back into my ignorant haze, I hugged my knees tightly. Peter's thick arms wrapped around me, and he carried me bridal style.

"Where are we going?" I mumbled.

"There's a ship waiting for us. They're going to take us back to Rio Grande. We're taking you home, baby."

Home? Ha, I wanted to laugh. I didn't have a home. "Where's home?" I asked my voice weak and monotone.

"You're coming with us to Michigan for a while. Once you're better, you're going to find that grandson of yours."

I sighed reluctantly. "Why is this so important to you, Peter? You could just leave me here."

Growling lowly, he turned his head toward me. "We care about you, Bella, and we want to see you happy. I have a feeling that Forks is a good idea for you. I really think you'll find a new start there." All I could do was shrug. Did it really matter? To me it didn't. A small part of me resented Peter and Laurent for coming to find me. How had they found me anyway?

I decided I'd ask. "How did you find me?"

He gave me a "did you seriously just ask that look" and snorted. "I traced your cell to South America. I guess you dumped it there?" I nodded. "Of course you did," he said, in an icy tone. "I looked everywhere for you, Bells. Once I got to the Falkland Islands, I figured you probably came here. It was just a matter of time until we found you."

"Oh," was all I could say.

I wanted to be happy they'd found me, but I wasn't. I didn't care. Peter carried me into an empty cabin on the "ship." It turned out that it was a whaling ship.

The three of us stayed hidden in the lower cabins, avoiding the humans as best we could. One of the crew informed us that it would take us two weeks to get to Rio Grande. We settled in, none of us talking about anything, and I was fine with that.

And so it was that I found myself, once again, headed for the States, my future unknown to me.

I couldn't care less.


	7. No Soothing For The Sad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No mercy for the lost  
> No soothing for the sad  
> The line is never crossed  
> They are the living dead
> 
> -Dangerous and Moving by t.A.T.u.-

-Lilly Maria, Atlantic Ocean, 16 January 2010-

The humans had to be suspicious. There was no way they didn't notice the five crew members that were missing, one of which was their doctor. If they knew what we were, they didn't show it. Laurent had told me that Peter paid a large sum of cash for this ship to help them find me and then carry the three of us back to Rio Grande. One of the stipulations was that there were to be no questions from the humans. I suppose the ridiculous amount of cash was just too hard to turn down, because they agreed to it.

After the third day, I didn't even bother feeding. It had disgusted me to take the poor guy. He just cowered in the corner as I stalked toward him. His blood tasted stagnant and stale, no appeal at all. Peter had argued with me, tried to 'force-feed' me, but it didn't work; I just didn't care enough to bother. So I stayed tucked away in the farthest corner I could find, and stared at the metal bulkhead, lost in my misery.

I still felt weak, and the burn in my throat continued to scorch, but I just sat and counted the metal rivets on the wall across from me. Peter and Laurent came to try talking to me after the fourth day, trying to explain my actions on the beach. "Thirst madness" is what they called it. Supposedly, it had been so long since I'd last fed, that my body began to shut down. Apparently vampire bodies suffer the same effects of starvation as humans do, except that we can't die from it. Our bodies go into a sort of hibernation. We don't really sleep, but our system goes into a sort of shock. They told me that that's what happened to me.

I was incredibly skinny, my clothes just hung on my body. Laurent poked holes in his belt so it would fit around my hips and hold up my pants. I was sure partially decayed corpses looked better than I did. Both guys were worried about my physical health; Peter, however, seemed more concerned with me mentally. He assured me that I would regain my physical appearance after I started feeding on a regular basis. After that fourth day, he came down to talk to me several times a day. Peter had been a shrink in his human life, and he enjoyed psycho-analyzing me, saying I suffered from severe depression brought on by trauma. If I had cared enough, I would have laughed.

Thirst madness sounded like bullshit to me, though. I couldn't imagine that being hungry would make me believe that he was still alive. Peter hadn't experienced it. He had no idea how real it had all seemed to me. I honestly thought I was still human. How could anything make me feel that? I should have known what I was. I should have remembered who he was. Maybe he was right. Maybe my depression was so severe that I was willing to believe anything. Maybe that's why I hadn't recognized Peter's voice, because I didn't want to.

It made sense to me, but Peter still wanted to know if I'd had any psychotic episodes prior to that one. The truth was, I didn't really remember. What I did remember was collapsing onto the beach and staring at the sun. I don't know how long I lay there before the abyss snuck up on my ass. There was darkness after that until a few days ago. Part of me relished the madness, because Edward was still alive and we were together; I was happy. I closed my eyes, remembering his electric touch on my skin, the way his green eyes danced as he touched me, the taste of his lips.

Swallowing back the tightness in my throat, I ground my teeth together and thumped my head against the metal behind me. I hated my life now. I couldn't get away from the memories. Even when I tried to move past him, my mind still brought him back to the forefront of my thoughts. Sure, it was induced by 'starvation,' but that didn't change anything. I loved him, I would always love him, but I was ready to escape the memories. Human memories were supposed to fade over time, Irina had told me. Many of my human memories had faded, but I believed that strong feelings carried over through the change and burned the images of those emotions into a vampire's unforgetting brain.

This is what must have happened to me. I had very few human memories left. Most of them were completely gone. There were some that I could pull up, if I thought really hard on them. But the ones that were inescapable were the ones of my time with Edward. Unlike the other human memories, those memories were almost as clear as my vampire memories. They stayed with me, every day, week, month, and year. I still felt the emotions attached to them. It was part of the torment I suffered.

Laurent once told me that vampire emotions were incredibly strong. He explained that short term emotions like bouts of anger or frustration were intense but waned over time, just like in humans. Love, he said, was a different thing all together. Once a vampire met his or her mate, the love they would feel would be all consuming, complete, mind-blowing, and eternal. Humans have a tendency to fall in love more than once, or perhaps they are capable of our type of love, that permanent, consuming feeling, and they've just never been lucky enough to discover it. I think I had found eternal love, even as a human. Edward was part of me, ingrained into every fiber of my being. My life was void and dead without him, and always would be. I hated it. I wanted to get past it, because who wants to suffer forever?

-Lilly Maria, Atlantic Ocean, 20 January 2010-

"You really should feed; you'll never get your strength back if you don't," Peter chastised, as he came to sit down next to me.

I shrugged, glancing over at him. "I don't care," I mumbled.

He rolled his eyes and let out an angry sigh. "Damn it, Bella, you need to take care of yourself. What are you going to do, mope forever?"

"Why does it matter?" I asked in an emotionless whisper, my gaze focusing on a particle of dust in the distance.

He threw his head back hard, obviously frustrated, and dented the bulkhead. "Fuck! It matters because we care about you. You got to stop living like this. It's been almost ninety two years; get over it for Christ's sake!"

I felt it, a tiny tinge of anger flared up inside me, for just a moment. "Tell me, would you 'get over it' if you lost Laurent?" The anger subsided just as quickly as it appeared, leaving me hollow and dead inside.

"That's not the same and you fucking know it!"

"Isn't it?"

He moved so he was kneeling in front of me, leaned forward and grabbed my shoulders, squeezing me so tightly my bones would have turned to dust if they weren't as durable as his. Even in my weakened state, my body still held its vampire resilience. "Edward Masen was not your mate. You find your mate after your change, not before. He's gone, Bella; nothing is going to bring him back," he yelled.

"NO," I screamed, launching myself at him with all the force I could muster. "You don't know, you can't know! He's everywhere. It's like I can feel him but I know he's gone. I know I'll never see him again and it's killing me. All I want is to be with him, and I know I never will be!" My weakened body slammed into his, not even budging him and I buried my face in his chest, letting dry sobs take me. "It's killing me to know that. I don't want to feel like this forever; there has to be a way to make this pain go away!"

Peter held me close and rocked me as I thumped the side of my fist against his chest weakly. "I wish there was a way to help you, babe, but I just don't know. This is so far beyond anything I've encountered before, and my human studies are vague and obsolete. Perhaps you would benefit from the efforts of someone who has been to med school in the last forty or so years."

"You want me to see a shrink?" I choked.

He shrugged. "It couldn't hurt. You'd have to edit what you tell them of course, but seriously, maybe they could help you get past this. I completely understand and agree with you about not wanting to feel like this forever." I nodded, clutching him tighter as the sobs continued. He continued to rock me, but said nothing else for what could have been hours.

Sometime later, Laurent came busting in, his eyes wide and excited. "We'll be arriving within the next few hours. We need to prepare. We'll be there early," he announced.

"Prepare?" I asked.

Peter sighed and pushed me away gently so he could look into my eyes. "That's why we've been trying to get you to feed; you'll need your strength. We're going to be traveling on foot to Argentina so we can catch a flight out of here."

"Oh." I shrugged. They both glanced at me before gazing at one another and shaking their heads. "What?" I asked, exasperated.

Peter turned his attention back to me. "Nothing, babe, we're just worried about you."

A tinge of guilt flowed through me. I really was being selfish. My only two friends were just trying to help me and I was sitting around, ignoring them, and moping. I let out a long, drawn out sigh. "I'm sorry, you guys. I'm trying here. I really do appreciate your help and you coming to rescue me." It was partially the truth. I did appreciate their help, but as for trying to get over this, I really wasn't. Honestly, I was just sitting around wallowing. In fact, that was pretty much all I'd been doing since I'd left Peter's house back in the thirties.

At my comment, a smile, the first one I'd seen since before I'd left the States, spread across Peter's face. "We'll always be here for you, babe; don't you worry."

I nodded, letting a small smirk spread across my face. The pain of loss was ever present, but I decided right then and there to try and ignore it. My friends had risked exposure to come after me; the least I could do was feign happiness and try not to go running off again. "So," I said, scooting off Peter's lap, "I think the humans know about us, or at least suspect us."

"That's not a problem," Laurent said. He and Peter locked eyes again and for a moment the air became thick with emotion. It was stifling, but thank God, it eased. I appreciated the two for not rubbing their love in my face. The look they shared went from utter passion and love, to knowing, in a fraction of a second.

"What?" I asked, confused.

Peter smiled hugely, his eyes staying locked on his lover's. "Don't worry about the humans; they won't say anything." I gasped, catching on immediately. They didn't care about exposure because they never intended to let anyone live after the trip. For the first time in what felt like ever, excitement coursed through me.

I dropped the drained body and sat up, feeling slightly better—physically anyway. The three dead humans I'd fed on were scattered around the tiny room. Glancing at the bodies, I noticed that some of their blood had been spilled. I wiped my chin, ashamed that I'd gotten so sloppy, and rose to my feet, deciding to hunt down Peter and Laurent. It was dark out, so no one would see us as we swam to the shore and began our trek later that night. We'd already decided that we would have to hide out during the daytime hours because of the sun. The last thing we needed was to have our sparkling asses seen by some curious human.

I headed up the stairs toward the main deck, and found them both slumped over a body draining it completely. It was normal to see them feeding from the same body. They often shared and occasionally tried to get me to join them. I didn't, of course. I enjoyed feeding alone, and sharing meant not getting as much blood, which for me was something I didn't like. I was never fully satiated until I'd taken down at least two humans.

I stared at them, watching as they drained the life from the last of the crew members. My eyes traveled to the scattering of bodies across the deck. Not a single drop of blood had been wasted. Each body had two bite marks, one on each wrist, and the scene was macabre and serene at the same time. The sight only made me feel more ashamed when I compared their feeding etiquette to mine.

I turned back to them, seeing them finally sit up from the body. They gazed into each other's eyes, sharing some sort of odd connection from the feed. Peter reached up, tenderly brushing a stray dreadlock away from Laurent's face. Laurent grabbed his hand and pressed it against his cheek, leaning his head into the touch. As they leaned toward each other, I had to turn away. Their love and devotion was great for them, but for me, it was stifling to watch. The emotions in the room were running so high; they threatened to crumble my stone body. I headed toward the stairs, going back down to my spot to wait for them. They would come and get me whenever they were finished.

I once asked Peter in my early years, why he and Laurent fed together. He'd told me that feeding with his mate was an intense feeling. He said that all vampires experienced a sort of high after the feed, and that for mates, it became very arousing. He was right about the high; I felt it every time I fed. My senses sharpened; I became hyper-aware. I wasn't mated, though, so I had no idea about it being arousing.

Peter and Laurent were unlike any couple I'd ever known, human or otherwise. The bond they shared was crippling to see, particularly for me. I had once felt the love I knew they felt for each other, had once gazed at someone the way they did. To see some other couple happy like that, knowing that they had that level of adoration, made me jealous. It was petty; I knew that, but it didn't change anything. They were lucky; they would have each other for eternity. For me, however, that was lost. I was alone, with no hope of finding that again.

Still, despite my depression, I knew that Peter was right. Edward was gone. He'd most likely married and gone on to live a happy life with another woman. So because of that, I needed to just forget about him. All the moping in the world wasn't going to bring him back. Despite that knowledge, it didn't make it any easier to forget. Losing a love like that was tantamount to losing a limb. Eventually, the patient got used to not having the limb anymore, but once in awhile they'd have a ghost feeling, as if it were still attached.

That was sort of how this felt. I was used to the fact that Edward was gone. It had been ninety-two years, after all. However, it didn't change the fact that there was a ghost of him that followed me around. His memories, his scent, even his touch haunted me. It was as if, after he'd died, he'd been forced to wander earth and torment me. The thought made me hate God all the more. First I'd lost Edward, by becoming a monster, and now I was being further tortured by the memories of our time together.

Sighing, I decided that I would go with Peter and Laurent back to the States, staying with them in Michigan until I felt and looked better. Then I would allow them to drag me to Washington so I could meet my grandson. What could it hurt, really? I was a vampire, so I had all the time in the world. And, if nothing else, meeting Charles Swan would give me some bit of closure to my human life. Not to mention, if he was willing, I'd be able to spend some time getting to know him, which meant that I wouldn't be alone until he finally passed away.

Peter continued to preach about his sense that there would be a new beginning for me in Forks. I didn't believe him, but I figured I'd let him have his way for now. In truth, it was pointless to fight against it. His mind was set, and if I bailed he'd just track me down again. He would chase me for eternity just to get me to do this. His heart was in the right place; I knew he and Laurent cared about me. So I would go along with their plan and see what happened, because I had nothing better to do than mope.

I was counting the bolts holding in the bulkhead when they finally came down the stairs. "Ready, babe?" Peter asked in a ridiculously chipper voice. I fought back my scowl. It wasn't right to be rude to them just because I was bitter.

"Yeah. Are we just going to leave this thing floating out here?"

Laurent snickered. "You should know us better than that."

Instantly, I knew what they wanted and I couldn't contain my groan. "You're going to make me do it, aren't you?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Peter nodded. "Yep. You're the best swimmer out of the three of us."

"But I'm still not at my full strength. I may be the better swimmer, but I don't have the strength to do it."

"You'll be fine," Laurent said. "Come on. Let's get going. We need to hit land while it's still dark."

"How far out are we?" I asked.

"About fifteen miles," Peter said. I nodded and stood. We would be able to swim that distance and hit land pretty quickly, depending, of course, on how long it took me to do what they were asking me.

"All right," I said, heading to the stairs. "Let's go, then."

I didn't bother to wait, as I flashed up the stairs to the outside deck. I was at the bow of the ship, glancing down at the water when they appeared behind me. Without a word, the three of us dove off the ship. They bobbed back to the surface of the water to wait for me while I swam down deep underneath the vessel. As I reached the bottom, I tapped my fist against the metal, searching for a weak section in the hull. After a moment, I heard a muffled, hollow thud and, in one swift movement, I drew my hand back and slammed my fist into it. I groaned as I pulled my hand away, seeing a deep dent. I told them I wasn't strong enough for this. I threw my fist into the metal again and mentally cheered when my hand broke through. Bubbles seeped out of the opening, and I reached my other hand inside, grabbing the metal at the opening and pulled. The hole grew into a large tear and I smiled triumphantly, swimming back to the surface where Peter and Laurent were waiting.

The three of us watched for a few moments as the ocean split and swallowed the ship, then as the final bubbles surfaced, we turned in the direction of the shore, and swam. It didn't take us long, but the sun was already starting to crest, and we needed to find cover. Pulling ourselves up onto dry land, we dashed across the horizon, ducking into a rundown building. We would hide out here until nightfall, and then it was off to Argentina, where we would fly home and I would find out what, if anything was in Forks.

-Outside Detroit, 1 February 2010-

"So why are we flying to Detroit?" I asked.

Peter chuckled at the exasperated look on my face and said, "Someone is picking us up."

My brow furrowed in confusion. Who did they know that would be coming for us? "Who's picking us up?"

Laurent leaned forward, looking past Peter to me. "Just wait and see. I think you'll be thoroughly surprised."

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window, thankful for the overcast day. As the plane began its descent into the Detroit Metro Airport, my mind drifted back to our long journey. As we'd sat in the rundown shack, waiting out daylight, Peter and Laurent were engrossed in conversation nearly the entire time. Once or twice they tried to include me, but I made sure they knew I just wanted to be left alone. My mind drifted back to Edward. I remembered the feel of his touch whenever he touched my cheek, and his gorgeous smile. By the time darkness had finally fallen, I was back to my bitter, depressed state.

That's how it went for us for the entire trip. As soon as we got to Buenos Aires, we began making plans to get back to the States. I stayed silent most of the trip and didn't bother to feed again. In truth, I found that I wasn't really thirsty after we left the Lilly Maria, which was fine with me. Peter jumped on my case about that too, but I ignored him and eventually he backed down.

Now, after two days of flying and three stopovers, we were finally almost to Michigan. This wasn't home for me though. I didn't have a home. Peter spent a lot of time trying to assure me that I'd find one, most likely in Forks with my family. To me, however, it seemed idiotic to hope for that. Sure, I had agreed to go to Forks and meet my grandson, but he was human. His light would snuff out in what would probably equate to a blink of an eye for me, and I'd be alone again. I hoped that I was wrong.

As the plane came to a stop on the tarmac, the three of us were the first ones off the plane. We weaved through the crowd of people before finally stepping into the airport. It was busy, which wasn't surprising. I didn't know who was going to pick us up, but I got a sudden chill down my spine, telling me that it probably wasn't someone I'd want to see. Peter grabbed my arm and dragged me behind him toward the exit. We had no luggage, so we didn't have to wait; we could just leave.

As soon as we were in the fresh air, a scent I hadn't smelled in a very long time hit me. I groaned and turned to glare at Peter, and then at the one person I hoped to never see again. It appeared he hadn't seen me yet, as he moved toward us. Anger flared up in me. Why hadn't Peter told me about this? Was this some sick game of matchmaker he was playing? I didn't know, but my stomach twisted as various possibilities flashed through my mind. All too soon, I heard his booming voice rip out over the crowd. "Isabella, is that you?" I groaned to myself but plastered a smile on my face as he came toward me, finally stopping right in front of me. "God, what's happened to you? You look like hell." Before I knew what he was doing, he grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, licking each of my fingers before planting a kiss on top of it.

My stomach lurched and, for the first time in my vampire life, I felt like I was going to vomit. My smile stayed in place, though, as I glanced into his eyes. He, like the rest of us, had contact lenses in, this time green. I wanted to kill him right then and there. My gut told me he'd done that shit on purpose. I pulled my hand away and took a step back, taking him in fully for the first time. His build was the same, slim and toned, like a swimmer. To human eyes, he was probably the most beautiful male in the building. My eyes, however, picked up the same imperfections I remembered. The scar just above his eyebrow, the bump in his nose from the break he'd suffered as a kid. My eyes finally roamed up past his eyes to his hair, and this time, I let my smile fall and my emotions come out. If I hated him before, I wanted him dead. Right. This. Second. His hair, which used to be long and blonde, was now a bronze-ish color, and a bit shorter. A growl escaped my lips as I prepared to launch myself at him. Before I could move, I felt two strong arms lock tightly around my waist.

I turned my head to glare at Peter, letting all the anger and fury show on my face. Peter just stared at me, his face a perfect mask, not betraying anything. A snicker drew my attention back to James, the person I would now classify as my arch enemy. Even with the contacts, I could see the way his eyes danced. The smile on his face was smug. I fought against Peter's iron grip, but my body was still incredibly weak. Even with all the feeding I'd done since Antarctica, I still hadn't regained my strength. It seemed that "thirst madness" took longer to reverse than I'd been expecting. In that moment, as I stared into James' cold eyes, I swore to myself I would feed every day and get my strength back. I knew I would need it.


	8. My Last Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so lost I fall on my knees  
> I think about times that used to be
> 
> when we danced just you and me  
> I cant't find the right words to say  
> I don't know how to say goodbye
> 
> -All Alone by Sins of Thy Beloved-
> 
> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT

-1 February 2010 (Continued)-

The drive home was long and filled with tension. Not one of us said a word for the entire trip. I was seething. How could Peter have kept something like this from me? Why hadn't he bothered to tell me that James would be picking us up? And, why in the hell had James picked us up in the first place?

Peter and Laurent chose to sit together in the back of the car, leaving me in the passenger seat next to James. The nerve he had to dye his hair that coppery color, to wear those green contacts. And what's more, to act so smug about it. I had never wanted to kill someone as badly as I wanted to slay all three of them in that moment. Peter and Laurent were on my shit list simply for allowing him near me. I knew they hadn't forgotten the fight between James and me in their backyard all those years ago. Peter had told me that James was gone, and that I wouldn't have to worry about him. The next private moment I got alone with Peter, I planned to drill him about why he allowed the asshole to come back.

In reality, I knew I didn't really have a right to complain. After all, James had been a trusted member of Peter's coven long before I came along – passing through the area, lost and alone. I hadn't known what to do with myself after Irina had died. When Peter found me, feeding in a dark shady motel, he offered to let me to stay with him and his coven.

Despite what I knew, I was incredibly furious. Peter knew about the problems I'd had with James. Though James hadn't actually raped me last time, he had tried, and I'd fended him off. Peter had been there at the end of that epic fight, had watched me leave after I'd ripped the asshole's head off his body and tossed it aside. Now here Peter was, welcoming James back into his coven, while I sat on the sideline, nursing my proverbial slap to the face. That was what really mattered to me – flaunting it in front of my face. They could do what they wanted when I left, but while I was with them, I wanted to pretend James didn't exist.

An hour and a half later, we pulled up in front of the house and stepped out of the car. Peter, James, and Laurent started for the front door while I stayed where I was, glaring over the top of the car at the house. Peter turned and saw me standing there and headed my way. Laurent moved to follow him, but Peter waved him off. As he reached the passenger side of the car, he asked, "What's going on, babe?"

I grabbed his arm forcefully and dragged him into a wooded area. He didn't fight me. As soon as were out of sight, I released his arm and wheeled around to face him. "What the fuck was that shit?" I asked angrily.

"Dude, Bella, come on. He called while we were out searching for you. Said he wanted to come back and rejoin the coven." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he continued to speak. "I might have mentioned that we were looking for you."

I growled and ran my hands through my hair before throwing my fist through the trunk of a tree. "God damn it, Peter! Do you not remember all the shit that went down between us? He tried to rape me!"

Peter nodded. "Of course, I remember. How could I forget that?"

I turned to face him, my fists balled so tightly at my sides that it felt like my bones were going to punch through my skin. "Then why, Peter? That's all I want to know. Why? If I wasn't here, it wouldn't be a problem, but how could you force me back when you knew he was returning?"

He held his hands up defensively. "Look, babe, I mentioned that shit to him. He said that he would be a perfect gentleman. Said the fight with you changed him, and that all he wanted was to love you and never hurt you again. Said he was going to win your heart the right way. He sounded genuine."

I gaped at him, completely and utterly stunned. Peter was the smartest person I'd met in my one hundred and eleven years of existence. How in God's name had he fallen for all of that? "Changed? The fuck he is! Peter, you're a fucking genius, how did you fall for that bullshit?"

He shook his head, still holding his hands up. "Look, babe, I really believe him. I think he's really changed. Why don't you give him another chance? You never know, it might be just what you need."

My arms were trembling, aching to hit something. My mind was fighting to keep control of my hands, to prevent me from hitting the man in front of me. "Oh. My. God. You can't be serious." I shook my head and turned to pace the area, my fists clenching and releasing at my sides, desperate to make contact with something.

"You're such a cynic, Bella, I swear. Why can't you just let go and try to be happy? Who knows, maybe if you try it, you might find yourself happy by accident."

As angry as I was, I couldn't contain the slight laugh that escaped my lips. "Did you pull that from Batman Begins?"

He nodded. "You know I did, babe. Listen, if he fucks up, Laurent and I will get rid of his ass. We're not going to let that shit happen again. You don't have to trust him, but I hope you can at least trust us. We love you, Bella, and we're going to protect you."

I stopped pacing and turned to face him, anger still rippling off me in waves. "Fine," I spat. "I will try to be civil, but if he so much as touches me without my permission, I'll kill him. I swear on all that's holy, I'll fucking kill him."

Peter nodded. "Fair enough. You ready to head back?"

I shook my head, "No, I'm going back to Detroit to feed."

He nodded again. "Good. We'll see you when you get back." Without another word, he dashed off back toward the house, while I turned and headed back to town.

What had taken us an hour and half by car, only took me forty-five minutes at vampire speed, on foot. It was twilight by the time I got there, the fast paced city eerily empty now. I prowled the streets well into the night, not really looking for prey, just avoiding going back to the house. Dealing with James was the last thing I wanted. It didn't matter what Peter said; James wasn't any different. One thing I had learned over the years was that the core of who a person was didn't change. Sure, looks changed, and sometimes an attitude would change. But, who a person was, deep down, never changed.

I sighed heavily, resigned to dealing with him for the remainder of my visit. I didn't know how long I would have to stay, but I wasn't planning to leave until I looked a little more human and less like the "walking dead".

It was well after midnight when I heard the squeal of tires behind me. Trying to ignore the unpleasent noise, I kept walking. My pace quickened, ever so slightly, and I heard the car's engine rev as it sped up too. I wasn't worried about being hurt; I just wanted to be alone. Apparently, the driver had other ideas because the horn honked, causing me to stop and turn around.

It was a royal blue Cadillac CTS. The car slid up next to me, the passenger window rolling down smoothly. I leaned forward, glancing inside to see a young, devilishly handsome, man in a suit. He glanced up at me, his eyes appraising. I plastered on my best smile, knowing that I probably looked like hell, but willing to play his game anyway. His voice was hard and cold as he spoke. "How much?"

"Depends on what you want," I said, trying for seductive.

He looked me up and down, his face not betraying whatever he was thinking. "The whole package."

I nodded. "How's an even thousand sound?"

He gaped slightly, before his face became a mask again. "Yeah, I can do that. It's a bit high, but perhaps you can use it to get some work done."

I nearly bit my tongue off, trying not to respond to his comment. I knew I didn't look great at the moment, certainly not my best, but surely I had to look better than any human he would have picked up tonight. I nodded and climbed into the passenger side.

"I've got a room already set up. Once we're finished it's yours till morning. The name is Healy. It's fully paid for, but if anyone should happen to stop by, for any reason, you're Healy." I shrugged, not really caring about the situation. He didn't know what he'd just signed himself up for.

I let myself breathe for the first time since he approached me on the street. His blood was appealing, but not the best human I'd ever smelled. His scent was slightly musty, a hint of sourness to it. He didn't bother to speak again as he drove what seemed like a long distance. After some time, we pulled up in front of the sleaziest motel I'd ever seen. He shut the car off and climbed out, headed toward the stairs, and I followed. When we got to the room, I looked around and simply standing there made me want to take a shower. The walls, which I think were supposed to be a turquoise color, were so dirty that they looked puke green in places. The tacky red carpet was covered in blotches of dirt, ash, and some other substance I didn't even question. On one side of the bed, in the corner of the room was a folding metal chair. The other side of the bed, the one facing us, had a beat up old nightstand with a pea green phone sitting on it. The bed, which was really more of a cot, was made, but I had to wonder how long it had been since either the sheets or the bed itself had been washed. If I hadn't been immortal, I would have worried about catching something.

"All right," the man started as he slipped past me and removed his suit jacket. "Don't touch me unless I instruct you to. Don't make any noise either. I don't want someone complaining and getting the manager on us." I gave a stiff nod, watching as he undid his swanky cuff links and tossed them on the table in the corner. He began working the buttons on his shirt, before removing it in record time. His tie still hung around his neck, but other than that, his upper body was naked. I took in his figure and it didn't surprise me that he was extremely toned and muscular. He was no Arnold Schwarzenegger, of course, but it was obvious he took his body very seriously. He stepped over to the nightstand and pulled a tiny box of condoms out of the drawer, before turning his attention back to me. "Get undressed and get on your hands and knees on the bed." I nodded again, letting him have his fun, before turning away and stripped. I smirked to myself, liking his boldness but knowing it wouldn't help him any. I was going to kill him one way or another. He could have been the Pope and it wouldn't have mattered. I needed to feed and that's all that mattered to me.

Once I was completely unclothed, I turned, hiding my smile, and walked over to the bed. He was on his knees, at the edge of the bed, fully erect with a condom set off to the side. I climbed up on the bed, bending over onto my hands and knees in front of him. "Take this," he said, tossing the necktie onto the bed beside me. "Put it on backwards and let the tail hang down your back." I sat up briefly, slipping the tie around my neck and flipping it around, as instructed. I slumped forward onto my hands again and waited. Hearing the condom wrapper rip, I felt my skin begin to prick with anxiety and hunger. The room was thick with his scent, and my throat welled up in flames. Suddenly, I didn't want to play his game anymore; I just wanted to feast on his sweet, life giving nectar. I closed my eyes and let my instincts take over.

The bed shifted and he slipped up behind me, his dick pressing against my ass. In a smooth, fast movement, I dropped to my stomach and flipped over to my back. His face turned angry and he leaned forward, his hands out, ready to grab me. Just a little closer. Inching even closer, he drew his right hand back, then swinging it quickly toward my cheek. I grabbed his wrist, squeezing it enough to feel the crushing of the tiny bones. His hand became limp as he cried out in agony. I brought my right hand up to lock around his throat and pulled him toward me. With a wicked sneer on my lips, I growled, throwing his words back at him, "Don't touch me unless I instruct you to. Don't make any noise either. I don't want someone complaining and getting the manager on us."

He whimpered as I brought his injured hand up to my lips. "What the fuck are you?" he asked in a strangled whisper.

Smiling, I slid my nose up and down his arm. "Excited," I trilled against his skin. A shiver ripped through his body, causing my arousal to peak. My smile grew and, without another word, my teeth sunk into his flesh. I moaned as the warmth spilled down my throat, cooling the fire instantly. His Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to scream, but I squeezed his throat tightly, crushing his windpipe. He began to fight against me, struggling to breathe, but with each gulp, his body weakened. I listened as his heart began to sputter and skip beats until his heart finally gave out. Pulling my lips away from his skin, I let my tongue flick out to catch a stray drop that oozed down his wrist. With my hunger satisfied, I dropped his lifeless body onto the bed and got dressed.

The high from the feed was, much to my dismay, wearing off as I trekked back to the house. Regret and frustration replaced the excitement I felt earlier. My mind wandered, going over the events of the past few months. I couldn't help the depression that washed over me just then. Loneliness and pain were a constant in my life now. I thought of an eternity spent feeding off scummy men in decrepit hotel rooms with no one to give it meaning. I hated feeling like this and spent most of my time wishing for death, because perhaps, in death, I could find a release from this constant torment. Even the high from the feed couldn't push that away. Peter's words from earlier echoed in my brain: "At least try to be happy. Who knows, maybe if you try it, you might find yourself happy by accident."

I grumbled and pushed the thought out of my mind. In any other situation, I would have taken his words seriously and mulled them over. However, when talking about James, I was incapable of even considering Peter's advice. There was no happiness with James, who was a deplorable, despicable excuse for a man or vampire. I hated him, so much that it literally hurt. Every time I thought about him, I wanted to throw up, and my stomach twisted in knots whenever he was around. I let out a long, drawn out sigh as I finally stepped into the yard. Dawn was just about to break, and Hell was waiting for me behind that door.

-Allen, MI, 14 February 2010-

There was a knock on the door, but not waiting for my reply, Peter stepped in and closed the door behind him. I looked up from my book and scowled when I saw the white rose in his hand. He approached the edge of the bed and sat down next to me. "Here, from Laurent and me," he said, holding the flower out to me. "Are you going to stay locked up in here forever?"

I forced a smile and took the rose from him, inhaling its light scent. "Thanks, Peter. And to answer your question, I will stay in here until he leaves. I have no desire to interact with him." I felt his eyes on me, but he said nothing for several long moments.

After returning from Detroit, I locked myself away in my room, only coming out at night to feed. So far, James had kept his distance, but I knew he was simply biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to burst into my room. I knew what to expect. James hated the word no; it's just how he was. It had been a problem the first time we had shared a coven. My lack of desire for him and my constant denials frustrated him to the point of taking matters into his own hands. I expected it would be the same this time around, as neither of us had changed. So, I just sat and waited – expecting it.

Peter and Laurent had respected my wishes and left me to my peace. However, it didn't surprise me to see Peter sitting before me now. St. Valentine's Day was the day he and Laurent waited for all year. They celebrated most holidays, but today was especially important for them because it was on this day, nearly two centuries ago, that they'd sworn themselves to each other. Today, it was nice knowing there were two vampires under this roof that would be happy. For me, it was just another lonely miserable day.

Peter shook his head and tilted my book up so he could see the cover. "Wuthering Heights? How many times have you read that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I loved it even as a child. This is actually the very first copy I've ever owned. It's older than I am. It was my mother's." I set the book down on the bedside table, not bothering with marking my page; I could easily find it again. "Look, I'm sorry if I'm being a pain in the ass or a buzz kill, but I just don't want to deal with him. It's your coven, and I'm not a member, so my opinion doesn't count, but please just let me have this one thing."

He stared at me for a long time before speaking again. "You know, you could be a member of my coven, if you wanted."

I smiled but shook my head. "No, I couldn't. I enjoy being alone."

He let out a stiff laugh. "You don't and you know it. You just don't want to settle down. Being a nomad gives you something to do, a reason to get up and go."

"You may be right, but does it matter in the end?"

"That's something you should ask yourself, babe. But listen, I won't come back in here and bug you, I just wanted to check on you and wish you a happy Valentine's Day."

"Thanks, Peter," I said, sitting up to hug him.

He hugged me back. "Maybe one day you'll finally have a reason to celebrate this day with us." I didn't say anything more to him, as I pulled away and picked up my book. He rose and left the room, leaving me alone.

Sometime later, my bedroom door opened slightly and the last person I wanted to see stuck his head in. I looked up and groaned when I saw him. "What?" I spat.

"May I please come in?" James asked.

My jaw dropped at his politeness, but I caught myself and snapped it shut. After all, he wasn't really being polite; he was just playing a game, trying to make me believe he'd changed. "You're going to come in anyway, whether I like or not, so why bother asking?" I snapped.

He let out a defeated sigh and stepped in, closing the door behind him. In his left hand was a gorgeous, long-stemmed, red rose. He moved toward me, sat down on the edge of the bed, and handed the flower to me. "Happy Valentine's Day," he whispered.

I reached out and gingerly took the rose. "Uh, thanks."

He shrugged, not taking his eyes off me. "So, how long are you going to hide from me?"

I rolled my eyes and groaned. For just a moment there, his footing was good, but now, with that phrase, he'd cracked the ice and was dangerously close to falling through. It figured he would say something to fuck up the one sweet moment he'd ever had. "I'm not hiding from you. I just want to be alone. I'm only here temporarily, until I get my paperwork, then I'm out."

"Where are you going, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I do mind you asking. It's none of your business where I'm going."

His face seemed pained by my utter rudeness. "I really fucked things up with you, didn't I?"

"You know you did!"

He sighed letting his eyes drop down to his lap. "Can you ever forgive me?"

I ground my teeth, hating him for begging like that. "Well gee, I suppose I might have tried if you had come back looking like you. But no, you had to go dye your hair and wear those fucking contacts. Why would you do that?" My voice broke on the last five words, and I set my book down again, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them.

He looked up at me, his eyes pleading with mine. "I didn't do it to hurt you. I thought if I looked like someone you loved, then maybe you would love me."

"What?" I gasped. "You honestly thought you could win me by looking like him? That's just sick!"

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching his left hand out to me. I flinched away, trying to scoot farther from him but meeting the wall. "I'm not going to hurt you. I didn't mean to upset you with the hair. It's temporary color; it'll be gone in a few washes." His fingers danced lightly across my cheek. "You're starting to look better, more like the old you. Peter told me what happened when I called. I'm so sorry you're suffering."

I stared at him, confused. "Why are you being like this?"

A small, genuine-looking smile spread across his lips as he ran the backs of his fingers across my cheek. "Like I told Peter, I'm a changed man now. All I want is to love you, Bella. Will you let me love you?"

"Fuck you," I said, scooting along the wall to the other side of the bed, trying to get out of his reach.

He moved a bit closer to me, his gaze darting between my eyes and my lips. "There is something I would like to do. If it bothers you, please tell me."

Those words. I'd heard them before. They were his words, the words he said to me before his lips touched mine. Anger welled up in me and I pulled away from James. "You fucking manipulative bastard! How dare you say that to me, how dare you pretend to be him!" I slipped off the bed and darted, toward the door. James's strong hands wrapped around my biceps, as he spun me around to face him, slamming my back into the door.

"Listen to me Bella," he said in a stern voice. "I'm just trying to get you to relax with me. I want you to be comfortable with me. I want you to love me."

I shook my head, not breaking eye contact with him. "I can't. I've told you this before. The heart wants what the heart wants. I can't change that."

His eyes bore into mine, begging, pleading. "It would take time, sure, but I think if you let yourself go, you might be able to come to love me as I love you." His right hand moved from my arm to my cheek, cupping it gently. "I love you so much, Bella, let me show you," he whispered as he moved his head toward me.

My mind flashed back to the alley with Royce, and suddenly, I was paralyzed with fear. "No," I said in a shaky voice. "Please." I closed my eyes, my brain reliving every excruciating moment of that night in the alley.

I didn't want to do this again; I didn't want to fight with James again. Peter and Laurent took care of me, they cared about me, and I wasn't ready to leave them yet. Still, I couldn't just stand here and put up with James's erratic behavior again, either. Maybe I could try and talk him down; maybe this didn't have to end with violence.

Yeah right, I thought. If you don't fucking fight, he'll hurt you just like Royce did.

And yet, despite that knowledge, I couldn't will myself to fight as James's lips touched mine. The memories from the alley were overwhelming, and my breathing accelerated as I clenched my fists tightly at my side.

Though James's kiss was gentle, it was all wrong. His lips didn't fit mine in the right way. Suddenly, his tongue danced out across my bottom lip as he tried to deepen this kiss. My eyes popped open, disgust and panic mixing inside me. This was all wrong. This was a betrayal.

Fight, God damn it! I told myself, and then my knee made contact with his groin. The kiss broke and James slumped over, his hands releasing me to cover his aching groin. He looked up at me, his eyes angered. "Christ, Bella, what the hell was that for? Here I am, baring my soul to you, and you go and do something like that?"

"I told you no!" Without saying another word, I turned and bolted from the room. He was on me quickly, grabbing me and slamming my chest against the wall.

His mouth was right at my ear, his voice cold and harsh. "I was willing to do this the right way, but you had to go and fuck it up." I heard a jingle as he unbuckled his belt. I tried to fight against him, but he had me pinned with all his weight pressed against my back. "Now I'm going to teach you a lesson." I heard the soft thud as his pants hit the floor, and he grabbed my jeans, ripping them from me in one smooth motion. I felt him press against me and I did the only thing I could think of; I screamed.

Weaving his fingers into my hair, James slammed my head hard against the wall. The drywall gave way. "Shut the fuck up," he growled. "We could have done this the easy way, the right way. I was willing, but no, you had to fight. I told you once before and I meant it, you're mine." I felt his body shift, and he ground himself against my ass. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. This wasn't happening, I wouldn't be raped again. My breathing accelerated and I threw my head back, hard, slamming it into his face. He stumbled back slightly, giving me freedom of movement.

Turning to face him, I saw the rage boiling in his eyes. He lunged at me, but I ducked under his arm and made for the kitchen. James was right on my heels, growling and spitting vicious obscenities at me. I reached the kitchen but his arms locked around me, and threw me to the ground. He was on top of me, but I struggled and fought, shimmying my way toward the drawer. His arms were still tight around me as I reached the counter. I struggled to pull myself up, fighting against his weight. I grabbed the drawer, but pulled it straight out of the counter and down on top of me. The contents spilled out over the floor, and the butane grill lighter landed a few inches away from my fingertips.

I reached for the lighter and let out a victorious laugh when my hand wrapped around the handle. When I turned back to him, James looked at me and our eyes locked. He grabbed my wrist, pinning it over my head, and reached down between my legs, preparing to force himself inside me. I struggled against his grip, using my legs to push against his chest. When that didn't work, I went for the easy target, his balls—my shin connected right with his groin.

Roaring with anger, he punched me in the face, and released my wrist so he could wrap his hands around my throat. Panicked, I shoved the flats of my feet against him, pushing with all my strength, but I couldn't get him to release me.

Desperate to get him off me, I used my free hand to ram a finger into his eye. James screeched, his grip on me breaking as he covered his face and went scurrying across the room. I scrambled to my knees and placed the lighter between my teeth, diving at him and landing square on his chest. He glared up at me with one eye, as I grabbed the sides of his head and yanked as hard as I could. With a sharp metallic sound, his head disconnected from his body.

I dropped his head and pulled the lighter switch, hearing it click as a flame erupted from the tip. I thrust the lighter at him, watching as his body instantly ignited. Exhausted, I crawled away from him and dropped back down on the other side of the room. I closed my eyes for a moment in relief, as I leaned my head back against the cabinet and listened to crackles as his body burned.

"Jesus Christ!" Peter's booming voice pulled me back from my daze, and I opened my eyes. The fire had stopped now, and where James's body had been was nothing but ash. Though the fire was gone, a white haze still hung in the air from the extinguisher mixed with the thick purple smoke from James's burning corpse. The entire living room was scorched, the furniture charred and destroyed. Peter stood in the middle of it, the fire extinguisher in his hands. Laurent was behind him, his eyes wide.

Both of them finally turned their attention away from the blackened area, and over to me. Peter's eyes went wide and he dropped the extinguisher, sprinting over to me. I was still naked from the waist down, but in that moment, I was so relieved to see him that I didn't feel any shame. My face twisted as the adrenaline subsided and pain set in. James had torn some of my flesh during the fight, and he'd handled me roughly, pulling my hair and biting me as well. The physical pain I could handle though. What hit me hardest were the terrifying memories of that night in the alley with Royce all those years ago. James's attack had triggered them. As Peter knelt down in front of me, I launched myself at him, burying my face in his chest. My mind wandered to the nameless man from the nasty hotel. I thought of how he had propositioned me, much like James had tried to do, only without the rose. With that man, I had known what he was after, and since I was hungry, I had been able to tolerate the grotesque nature of situation so that I could feed on him. Since James's return, I hadn't known what to expect—not really. He seemed to have Peter and Laurent fooled into thinking that he had changed. In the back of my mind, I assumed he would try something, and I had been right. But what if he really had changed? Not that I could have loved him, but what if I was just too cynical to ever be happy.

As I thought of all these things, I wept into Peter's chest. His arms wrapped around me, and he held me tightly as I broke down. "Shh," he whispered. "We're here now. I'm so sorry we weren't here when this happened. We went to feed. We should have told you, but I didn't want to bother you again. I'm so fucking sorry."

I shook my head. "I'm…s-sorry…I'm sorry I had to k-kill your c-c-coven mate," I whimpered.

"Don't you dare fucking apologize. You did what you had to do, and I'm so proud of you, babe." I squeezed him tighter, my body trembling just as it had after the last time I was raped by Royce. James's words tore through my mind, "You're mine." In my head, I relived his violent attack. I thought about he had so carelessly tried to rape me just moments after professing to love me. I'd been expecting him to do something, but I had figured that if he did, I would be able to fight him off, or at the very least I figured Peter and Laurent would be there to help me.

Peter shushed me stroked my gently. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you we were leaving. I'm sorry we weren't here."

Finally, after a long while, I sniffed and pulled away resolving myself to push this event from my mind. I didn't know why I had been targeted like this. It always confounded me why James was interested in me in the first place. Even Royce's affections didn't make sense to me. It was as if I was a magnet for asshole men. The only thing that stopped the man in the hotel from hurting me was the fact that I was a monster. I killed him before he had the chance to hurt or kill me.

So, I forced the events of the last few months from mind. I wouldn't let this deter me any longer. It was time to stop feeling sorry for myself and move forward. If that meant I had to forget about Edward, then that's what I would do. This whole situation had finally put everything into perspective for me. The past was over, and Edward was gone. In my future stood the chance for some semblance of happiness, a family, something I thought was lost to me.

I glanced up at Peter. "It was really close, but it didn't happen. I don't know how I managed to get him off of me, but thank God I did."

He nodded. "Yes, thank God." He let out a sigh and glanced over his shoulder, Laurent was standing behind him with a fresh set of clothes for me. I reached up for them, pulling away from Peter completely and standing to get dressed. "You're leaving again, aren't you?" Peter asked as I slipped on the clean underwear and jeans.

"Yes. I can't stay here, I'm sorry." Removing my old shirt and tossing it aside, I pulled a fresh, clean blouse over my head. "I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me. I promise I'll come back and visit sometime."

"Where will you go?" Laurent asked.

I shrugged and pulled my hair out of the collar, letting it cascade down my back. "Well, I told you guys I would go find my grandson, so that's what I'm going to do. I'll start in Forks, where last year's census says he was for sure, and go from there. Surely he has other family or friends who could point me in the right direction."

Peter smiled. "That's great, babe. I really think you'll find a new start there."

I shrugged again. "I don't know about that, but maybe meeting my family will be a good thing. I've already worked up a story. All I have to do now is collect my paperwork from my contact."

"Wonderful. So I guess this is goodbye for now, then?"

"Yeah, for now, but I promise you'll hear from me again."

Laurent smirked and Peter nodded. "Here," Peter said, holding out my car keys. "It's right where you told us to leave it."

I took the keys and threw my arms around their necks. "Thank you for everything. I love you guys." I pulled away and headed for the door. With my hand on the knob, I turned and smiled at my friends, the closest thing I had to family. "I'll see you soon." With that, I swept out the door and began my trek to the storage unit were my car was collecting dust.

My destination? Forks, Washington.


	9. Who Waits Forever Anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who dares to love forever?  
> When love must die
> 
> -Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen-

-Chicago 5 August 1918-

Pain ripped through me and I couldn't help but cry out. My mother blotted a damp rag on my forehead, shushing me. "It hurts so badly," I cried.

"I know, Isabella, but I promise you, it will be over soon." I groaned at her words—she had been telling me this for the last six hours.

The pain subsided and I slumped back in my pillow, feeling utterly worn out. "Where's Edward?" I asked, breathlessly.

My mother pulled the rag away and pursed her lips, eying me warily. "He is downstairs," she said, finally.

"I want him in here with me."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, she shook her head furiously. "Isabella, that is just not how it's done. Even fathers do not come in during the birth." I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling emboldened for some reason. Before I could argue, however, pain ripped through me again, and I cried out.

The midwife burst into the room carrying an armload of blankets and towels. Behind, Edward stumbled in carrying a basin of water. As the pain subsided again I held my hand out to him. "Stay with me," I begged. He set the basin down on the small table by my bed and glanced at my mother questioningly. She narrowed her eyes but did not say anything, so he moved toward me and grabbed my hand. "Hi," I said, smiling as he brought the back of my hand to his lips.

"Hi," he said. "Are you sure you want me here for this?"

I nodded. "Only if you want to be here."

I felt his lips curve up in a smile against my hand and he sat down gently on the bed next to me. "I want to be anywhere you are, Isabella." My cheeks reddened and I swallowed back a lump that started to form as my eyes pooled with tears. Before I could respond, another surge of pain rocked me and cried out. Edward stiffened ever-so-slightly as I squeezed his hand, probably harder than I meant to, but he didn't complain about it.

"All right," the midwife said. "The baby is crowning. Isabella, you're going to have to push."

Tears slipped down my cheeks as the pain subsided and I shook my head. "I can't, it hurts so bad."

My mother grabbed my left hand and squeezed it gently. "You can. You have to Isabella, the sooner you get through it the sooner it will be over."

I shook my head again. They both had to be kidding, there was no way I could deliver this baby, and the pain was a testament to that. I didn't understand how other women did it. I closed my eyes and cried silently for a moment before I felt a gentle touch on cheek. I opened my eyes back up and saw Edward staring at me, his eyes dancing with some unknown emotion. He smiled a beautiful crooked smile as his fingertips brushed away my tears. "You can do this, Isabella. You're so strong, the strongest woman I know. You can do anything." He squeezed my hand as he uttered the last words, and something about what he said gave me strength. I nodded and gritted my teeth, ready to deliver the baby.

"Come on, Isabella, push now," the midwife said. I did as I was told and felt another surge of pain, making me cry out. After a moment I had to stop and take a breath because I'd been holding it. "Good, you're almost there sweetie, push again." I looked up at Edward, hoping he was right about me being able to do this. His eyes showed complete devotion and he nodded slightly at my questioning glance. I pushed again, this time biting back the urge to cry out at the pain. "Oh, oh, the head has been delivered. Come on, Isabella, keep going, you can do it." I took a deep breath and kept on pushing, finally feeling a huge pressure ease off my body. I collapsed back onto my pillow, completely worn out.

My eyes locked with Edward's and he wore a huge, proud smile. I smiled back weakly, too worn out to give him anything better than that. The baby's powerful cries caused to me lift my head, but I couldn't see anything; my mother and the midwife were blocking the way. After a moment, my mother disappeared while midwife came back and finished tending to me.

Once she was done, she disappeared too. I looked back at Edward, whose face was now etched with concern. As soon as he saw me looking, he wiped it away and plastered that beautiful smile back on. "You did wonderful, Isabella." He leaned forward and kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there for just a moment. He mumbled something incoherent before pulling away. I let out a yawn and he chuckled, the sound sending a tingle down my spine. "Get some sleep, I'll come by and see you whenever you awake." I nodded and closed my eyes, finding sleep almost instantly.

I awoke some time later. The room was cast in shadow by the dim light of my bedside lamp. I turned toward it, squinting against the brightness as my eyes adjusted. My mother put down the book she was reading, Wuthering Heights, and smiled down at me. "How do you feel?" she asked.

I shifted, feeling a soreness run through me, and winced. "Sore."

She smiled knowingly and nodded. "It will go away."

I sighed and pushed myself into a seated position, dozens of questions buzzing in my head. Questions I wanted to ask but wasn't able to because she and the midwife had left me. I decided, since she was here, I'd ask now. "What was it?"

Her smile faltered and she glanced down at her hands, folded in her lap. "A boy."

I half smiled, but felt a pang of sadness. I knew putting him up for adoption was the right thing to do, because I knew I would always feel resentment for how he was conceived, however, that didn't mean I didn't love my son. "Was he healthy?"

She nodded. "Yes, very." She looked at me now, a sad smile on her lips. "He looks more like you than his father. I was happy about that."

I bit my lip and nodded, not sure how to respond to that. "Do I..." I stopped, not sure I wanted to ask that question. Instead I went with a completely different one. "When did Edward leave?"

My mother's solemn expression evaporated and her eyes lit up. She smiled hugely; as if she knew something I didn't and spoke. "He stayed for awhile, a few hours, before your father kicked him out."

I groaned, embarrassed. "Why would he kick him out?"

My mother's smile grew even bigger, if that were possible and she shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she said. "Why don't you go back to sleep, I will come and wake you up whenever Edward gets here." I wanted to argue, because I was confused. Something Edward had said or done had upset my father and turned my mother into a giddy school girl. I couldn't figure it out, and now that she'd mentioned sleep, I realized I was still really exhausted. I yawned hugely and she patted me on the arm before walking out the door.

My head dropped to my pillow and instantly fell into a restless sleep, filled with dreams of the son I would never know.

-Forks, WA 5 March 2010-

I pulled up in front of the house and killed the engine. It was overcast out, but I still wore my Ray-Bans to hide my eyes. If this wasn't him, I wasn't going to bother taking them off and exposing my contacts. I hated wearing the fuckers; they made my vision all hazy and they were uncomfortable.

I glanced over at the house, to see a police cruiser in the driveway. Next to it was an old, rusted Chevy truck. If I had to guess, I'd say it was from the fifties or sixties. There was another car, a dark blue Ford Taurus from the looks of it, parked on the street behind the police cruiser. I briefly wondered who that one belonged to, but shrugged it off and turned my attention to the house. The house itself was a quaint, two story, white house. It had faded green shudders and a small wooden porch in the front. I sighed and glanced down at the manila envelope on the passenger seat, hoping it would be good enough for why I needed it. I slipped my jacket off and threw it over the top of it, deciding I'd pull it out once I knew for sure that this was the right place.

When I'd come to Forks and asked about a Charles Swan, everyone laughed at me and asked me if I was new in town. When I'd told them I was, they'd promptly apologized and informed me that the only Charles Swan in Forks was the police chief, Charlie Swan. After explaining that I was family, one of the ladies at the diner had given me his address and sent me on my way. Now here I was. I took a long, deep breath and slid out of the seat, closing the car door behind me. There was a stone walking path that led right up to the steps of the front porch, so I followed it. As I got to the door, I took another deep breath, this time holding it in, and knocked.

After a few moments the door swung open and to my surprise, there was a man in a wheelchair. He had russet-colored skin and long, shiny, black hair that hung loose over his shoulders. His eyes trailed up my body, finally resting on my face and something about the look he gave me made me extremely uncomfortable. It was almost as if he knew exactly what I was. I cautiously let out my breath, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible about it and inhaled again, catching a horrible wet dog smell that nearly buckled my knees. I fought the urge the gag and simply stared at the man, and he back at me. Behind him there was a rustling of footsteps followed by a voice. "Who is it, Billy?"

My attention snapped to the voice, and after a moment, a man appeared in the doorway. We both gasped as we looked at each other, and I knew right away I was at the right house. The wheelchair-ridden man glanced between the two of us, his face suddenly confused. My eyes stayed focused on the man in front of me. He had some of my father's features in him, the shape of his face, the color of his hair. Some of mine too, his eyes were a rich, molten, brown color I once saw in the mirror every day.

I was the one to break the silence. "Um, I'm looking for a Charles Swan. I was told he lived here."

The man seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in and nodded. "I would be Charles Swan. Folks around here call me Charlie or Chief. What can I do for you young lady?"

I swallowed hard, feeling the urge to back away and leave, but fought it off. "My name is Isabella Amber Lawrence, I'm your cousin."

Charlie's jaw hit the floor. I stood in my spot, not moving, just waiting on his reaction. Finally his mouth snapped shut, and he spoke. "Isabella, huh?"

"Yes sir. I was named after my great grandmother; everyone just calls me Bella though."

Charlie nodded and held out his hand, "It's nice to meet you, Bella, but are you sure you've got the right Charles? I don't have family, my father was an orphan."

I nodded. "Yes sir. Um, see, your father had a twin brother named Marcus."

Charlie's jaw hit the floor for the second time and this time I snickered lightly. It didn't take him very long to close it this time either. "A twin? How is that...no one ever said...Oh my god!"

"I know it's kind of sudden to just show up on your doorstep, but my parents died last year while they were vacationing in Alaska. My grandfather apparently never knew he had a twin, and my parents weren't aware of it either. After the funeral I decided to start searching for my family. I knew there had to be another Swan somewhere."

He scratched the back of his head and eyes me warily. "How did you go about that?"

Uh oh, I hadn't prepared for this question. It took me less than a second to come up with something; I just hoped it was believable. "My grandfather knew the name of the orphanage he was sent to. I started there. Apparently both boys were sent there at birth. My grandfather was adopted by the Lawrence family and the rest is...history I guess."

The wheelchair man, who had remained silent this whole time, finally decided to speak. "Do you have proof that you are who you say you are?"

I smirked and glanced at him briefly before turning on a heel and heading to my car. For the first time since I'd gotten these papers, I felt a slight tinge of nervousness. Hopefully Jenks was as good as I'd been told he was or I was going to get my money back, one way or another. I leaned over the door and reached into the passenger seat to grab the envelope. Once I had it, I turned and headed back to the porch. Charlie stood waiting for me, still eying me warily. I climbed the steps and handed the packet to him, crossing my arms over my chest afterward. "This is everything I've found so far."

He nodded and flipped the packet over, pinching the tab and tugging the flap open. He reached into the packet gingerly and pulled out the handful of paperwork. I watched and waited as he went through the adoption papers, birth certificates, marriage licenses and death certificates. When he was finished, he slid the papers back into the envelope and held it out to me. "You don't by chance have some kind of proof for yourself, do you?" he asked.

I took the packet and tucked it under my arm as I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet. I flipped it open and pulled out my swanky new driver's license and social security card, handing both to him. "My birth certificate is in here," I held up the packet.

He nodded and began to examine my ID and social security card closely, and I felt the nervousness again. Leave it to me to try to pass forged documents off to a cop! I fought not to sound relieved when he smiled, nodded, and handed my ID and card back to me. "I'm glad you were willing to show me that, although I've got to say, I knew almost instantly you were family. You look just like the pictures I've seen of Grandma Swan."

I couldn't help but smile at that. "My grandfather used to say the same thing."

He smiled too and threw his arm over my shoulders. "Well, come on inside. I guess we should get to know each other." I followed him inside the house, taking in the staircase just behind the door, the ugly brown plaid couch in the living room. The matching chair near the entrance to the kitchen, and the odd thing out in the room, the huge flat screen TV mounted on the wall. The wheelchair man followed us in, closing the door behind him. "Are the kids outside?" Charlie asked him.

The wheelchair man shrugged, turning his eyes on me and giving me that look again. I shifted nervously under his gaze, and when he spoke the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. "I'm Billy. It's kind of rude for Charlie not to introduce me, since you're family and all. I'm his best friend."

I swallowed hard and nodded, hoping like hell I was at least appearing to keep my composure. "Nice to meet you, Billy."

He gave me a stiff nod and turned his attention back to Charlie. "I think they're up in the woods. They didn't exactly say where they were going."

Charlie groaned and rolled his eyes. "Oh great, they better not be shoving lit bottle rockets into frogs' mouths again." He turned his attention to me and smiled. "I suppose your parents didn't have to worry about that?"

I smirked and shook my head. "Nah, they had bigger problems than that with me."

"I'll bet," I heard Billy mumble.

Charlie's smile dropped and he eyed me curiously, like he was going to ask me a question. Instead, however, he turned and marched toward the kitchen. I followed behind him, watching as he slipped out the back door. "Paul, get your ass home boy," he yelled, before stepping back inside and shaking his head. He glanced over at me and smiled. "Would you like something to drink?"

I nodded, knowing I was going to have to put on the show here. "Do you have a Coke?"

"Sure do, that's all that boy drinks." I smirked as he headed to the fridge and opened it up. I felt the eyes of the wheelchair man, Billy, on me and fought not to let on that I knew he was staring. I hesitated for a moment before reaching up and slipping my sunglasses off, hanging them on my collar. Charlie came back and handed me the Coke. I popped it open and took a big gulp, swallowing it down quickly and inwardly cringing as it settled at the pit of my stomach. "Wow, you even have her eyes." His words brought my attention back to him and I smiled.

"So do you."

He nodded and slipped past me, sauntering over to the tacky chair and sitting down. I followed and plopped down on the couch. "That's a nice ride you've got out there. My boy would kill for one of those, what are they?"

"It's a Lamborghini, and thank you."

"Mind if I ask where you got it? You don't look old enough to have amassed a fortune yourself."

I shook my head. "I don't mind. You're right I didn't make the money myself; my father was an investment broker on Wall Street. My mother owned her own clothing company as well. When they died they left everything to me."

He quirked an eyebrow and I heard a cough/laugh come from wheelchair man. "Wow, so I guess you're pretty much set."

I nodded. "Yes sir. In the fall I start college, I'm going to Yale."

His eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped. "Wow, Yale. That's impressive."

I smirked. I felt bad rubbing it in his face, but if he let me, I was going to help him out financially. I knew his job didn't pay great, and he'd had to take out a second mortgage on his house once his ex-wife had left him. I also knew he had nothing in savings for his son's college.

Almost as if he was called, the back door swung open and two boys rushed in, stopping dead in their tracks when their eyes fell on me. One was slightly tanned with ice blue eyes. His hair was bleached out white, and spiked up in every direction. The tips of it were frosted in a blue that matched his eyes. The second boy had russet color skin and cropped black hair. Both boys were muscular but in different ways. The russet boy looked like he went out to the gym everyday where as the blue eyed boy just looked lean and toned, like a swimmer.

The russet boy glared at me with a look of pure hatred and as I inhaled, I once again picked up the horrid wet dog smell. The sound of a throat clearing seemed to break the tension in the room and we all shot our attention to Charlie. He smiled and motioned to the blue eyed boy. "This is my son, Paul. Paul, this is Bella."

He nodded to me and I nodded back. "What's up?" he asked.

I smirked and shrugged. "Who's your friend?"

He turned his attention to the boy behind him. "This is Jake. He's Billy's kid." I nodded again. So the scent I picked up from Billy was shared with his son. Somehow I knew they both knew what I was and I didn't like it.

Charlie spoke again and again all our attention went to him. "So, Bella here is our long lost cousin."

Everyone's eyes settled on me and I chuckled nervously. "Uh yeah, hi." Paul laughed and slipped past me to sit down in the empty space on the couch. Jake stayed right where he was, his eyes glued to me, his face twisted in a grimace.

"So, tell us a little about yourself," Charlie said.

I nodded and took a deep breath, trying not to cringe at the wet dog smell. "Well, I'm nineteen; I'll be twenty this year on September thirteenth. I don't really have a favorite color, but I prefer dark colors. I love fast cars, reading, and music."

Charlie smirked and nodded. "I can tell you like fast cars. Have you ever been in a car accident?"

I shook my head. "No, I mind the speed limit, Chief."

He laughed and tapped his chin with his finger, trying to think of something else to ask. It was the wheelchair man who broke the silence though. "What's your favorite food?"

I glanced over at him and smirked. Hell, he seemed to know what I was anyway so no point and playing to him or his son. "I prefer Native American food." He narrowed as his eyes and pursed his lips, but didn't say anything else.

His son decided to join the inquisition, however, asking the most obvious question. "How do you feel about blood?"

The Swans turned their attention to him while Jacob and his father's eyes stayed locked on me. They had to know there was no way I was going to answer this truthfully. I forced a cringe. "It makes me sick to my stomach. The smell, the sight, I just can't handle it."

Charlie chuckled and turned his eyes back to me. "Weak stomach, huh?"

I nodded. "You could say that."

He chuckled a bit harder and clapped his hands on his thighs. "So, who's hungry?"

Everyone was silent for a moment, staring at me. I smirked and nodded. "Is there a Chinese place here?"

He nodded. "Yeah there's the Shang Hai Chinese Restaurant. I've never been there, but we can call and see if they take out."

I shook my head. "No let's go out, Paul can drive my car if he wants."

Paul glanced at me confused while Charlie chuckled. "You may not get that car back if you do that, Bella." I smiled and shrugged, thankful to Peter and Laurent for suggesting I come here, happy that it was a good idea. I didn't know what would happen tomorrow, and from the looks I was getting from wheelchair man and son, I had a feeling it wouldn't be good for me to stay too long. Still, I pushed those worries aside for the night, just enjoying being with my family.


	10. What We're Going To Find

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many things in your life  
> That your bound to regret  
> Why didn't I do that?  
> Why didn't I do this?  
> So many chances you lost  
> That you'll never forget
> 
> -A Kiss is a Terrible Thing To Waste by Meat Loaf-

-Chicago, IL, 30 August 1918-

I stared at myself in my vanity mirror as my mother slipped out of the room, a wide smile on her face. The gown Elizabeth Masen had lent me was incredibly beautiful. The delicate blue lace hugged my shoulders and chest tightly, covering the blue satin that hung down my body. Mother had piled my hair up into a complicated array of curls and braids. My lips were painted a gentle pink, my cheeks powdered rose. There was a matching pair of silk elbow-length gloves waiting for me downstairs. Mother had informed me that I was to put these on just as I was preparing to leave.

The grandfather clock in the hallway began its song, chiming five times to inform me that it was time to head downstairs and await my escort. With one last shaky, deep breath, I slipped out of my room and out to the landing. My parents' voices below halted my descent, however.

"He is perfect for her, Liam; I do not see why you have a problem with the boy." My mother's voice was a strained whisper.

"Maggie, she is our only child. I do not wish to see her hurt."

My mother practically growled at this. "The way Royce hurt her?"

I heard a chair scrape across the floor as my father spoke. "You will not blame me for the actions of that man. I believed his interest in Isabella to be purely honorable."

"If it were not for you giving him permission to court her, she would have never suffered that way."

"Say what you will. Suppose he had come after her anyway, with or without permission?"

"I refuse to discuss this with you! This young man, he may not be what you want for her, but he is honorable and kind. You should at least give him a chance."

"Look, Maggie, you're right. He is an honorable and kind man; at least he appears to be. However, I just can't understand what a man of his station wants with our daughter. He says he's aware of her reputation, but he doesn't seem to care that being seen with her will soil his. I fear he may be simply playing with our daughter, and I just don't want to see her hurt."

My mother sighed. "I understand your concern, honey, but he does seem genuine to me. I doubt he would have invested this much time and energy if he was simply toying with her."

In the silence that followed, I stood atop the stairs, my breathing slightly accelerated, as I took in their conversation. Were they speaking of Edward? Was there another man who had come to call besides him? If so, who was it and why? In the eyes of the elite, I was still frowned upon as a harlot. Who would risk their reputation to court me, besides Edward?

Several shaky breaths later, I decided to make my presence on the stairs known. I began my descent, a bit more loudly and forcefully than was necessary. Mother greeted me just as I was coming off the last step, her face alight with the same giddy smile she wore whilst dressing me. "You look wonderful, darling. I will have to thank Mrs. Masen again when I see her."

I forced an impish smile as my cheeks began to flame. "It is a beautiful gown, but it just does not feel right on me. The town pariah should not be dressed this way."

My mother's smile faltered for a moment as she squeezed my shoulder. "Isabella, nonsense. This gown suits you for the event tonight. You deserve to look radiant. Do not let the gossip of the town get you down. You will be on the arm of a wonderful, handsome, young man tonight. Let yourself enjoy it."

I forced a smile and simply nodded. There was no point in trying to convince her that I was unworthy of the wonderful man who would be escorting me tonight. Edward had openly and willingly risked his reputation to be seen with me. He swore that it did not matter to him what everyone thought about him. Numerous times he had told me that that he wouldn't let the gossip get to him. However, I knew Edward owned two restaurants in town. It had been how he'd made his money. My concern was that he would lose clientele once word got out that he was courting me.

After weeks of long nights spent wondering what this feeling in the pit of my stomach was whenever I thought of him, I finally discovered what it was. I was in love with Edward Masen. As soon as the realization had hit me, I had practically choked. Despite the gossip in town, I wasn't brazen by any means, and for the past several weeks I held my tongue, not wanting to frighten him by admitting my feelings.

The thing that scared me the most was the possibility that he didn't feel the same way. Clearly he was affectionate, but perhaps he was still searching for the right woman. He was worthy of so much more than I had to offer, which really was not much. I had a simple trust fund set up by my father, and that was it. I was not even sure if there was an inheritance for me. I let out a sad sigh. No, I could never admit my feelings for Edward; he was too good for me and he would see that eventually.

The knock on the door caused my mother and me to jump. Despite my slight depression, I could not contain the smile that spread across my face as I slid past my mother to grab the gloves and slip them on. As Mother opened the door, Edward stepped in and my breath hitched in my throat. His bronze hair was an array of organized chaos, going in every direction. The tuxedo he was wearing was tailored just right and sat on his broad shoulders perfectly. The silver buttons studded his chest, and matched the cufflinks on his shirt sleeves. His emerald green eyes lit up as he spotted me and a breathtaking smile spread across his lips. "Miss Swan, may I say, you look...wonderful." The tenor of his voice sent sparks down my spine as that familiar feeling in my stomach ignited.

I cleared my throat and let my own smile appear, desperately hoping that I was keeping my composure. "Mr. Masen, you also look incredibly handsome tonight." If possible, his smile grew bigger and in two strides he was standing in front of me. He reached out to take my gloved left hand and bring it to his lips, kissing it oh-so-gently. The atmosphere around us was charged, and my breathing picked up slightly as my eyes locked onto his.

He squeezed my hand before letting it drop from his lips, but our hands stayed locked together. My mother seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere and decided to take charge. "So, Edward, when may I expect her back?"

Edward cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, always the gentleman. "We will be leaving the ball promptly at ten."

My mother nodded. "All right. Well, you two have a wonderful evening." With that, we were ushered out of the door.

Edward tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and tilted to smile at me. "How have you been feeling, Isabella?"

That smile, it would be the death of me, I was sure. "I am doing well. Are we to walk to the ball?"

He stopped and turned to face me, his left hand coming up to dance across my cheek. Without really thinking about it, I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. His light chuckle brought my attention back to the present and I opened my eyes to see him watching me, his eyes dancing with amusement. "I hope you do not mind, but yes, we are going to walk."

I bit my lip nervously, watching his eyes darken slightly as his hand continued to stroke my cheek. "May I ask why?"

"I wanted to share some extra time with you. Again, I hope you do not mind."

I smiled impishly at him as my cheeks began to color. "Okay, if that is what you wish, then we shall walk." He nodded as his hand slipped off my cheek and he turned to lead us to the ball once again. My hand was still tucked into his elbow, and even through my glove, I could feel the warmth of his arm. A feeling of wellbeing surrounded me, and I was aware of the security Edward's presence provided me. He reached up with his free hand, squeezing my fingers, gently, before stopping and turning to face me.

"Before we arrive at the ball, I wanted to tell you that I'm honored you were willing to come with me tonight."

I smiled and nodded. "Of course. The honor is all mine."

He reached up and caressed my cheek before leaning forward and kissing me, gently. His lips lingered on mine for just a moment before he pulled away, and started walking again. The remainder of the walk was silent, but as we got closer and closer to our destination, I could not help the nerves that decided to show up.

We had been seen together before, but just like any other time, I worried about the gossip that would spread from him being seen with me. Since I had met him, I had discovered that he was extremely popular with the ladies. Most of the girls that had tried, in vain it seemed, to gain his attention were beautiful blondes, exotic olive skinned goddesses, or bright, auburn beauties. Edward deserved any one of them over me; however, he brazenly chose to be seen with me. I knew that if he and I continued to be seen together, the gossip would soon spread. So far, it seemed, there were slight whispers, but no one, including myself, thought that anything could ever become of Edward and I. Still, his brief stint with me would ruin his reputation eventually.

We finally stepped into the huge mansion and made our way to the ballroom, Edward introducing me to various people whose names I forgot as soon as we moved on. Each and every person he approached eyed him with skepticism when they saw me on his arm. Eventually it got to be too much for me and I turned my eyes to the ground as we finally entered the ballroom. "Is everything all right, Isabella?" Edward asked, his voice startling me slightly.

I looked up at his pained expression. "Everyone is staring at us. It seems they are all curious as to why you chose to show up with me and not one of the Candar sisters."

A slight smile quirked up the left side of his face as his eyes danced. "I have no interest in the Candar sisters. Their father spoke with my father about arranging a courtship between me and one of them..."

I nodded, cutting him off. "I am aware. And you told your father that you politely declined."

"Yes, I did."

I bit my lip again and glanced around the room, noticing that people were beginning to dance. Edward noticed too and slipped his left arm around my waist while he held my left hand firmly in his right. We began twirling to the music but it did not distract me from my question. "Why? Why would you turn down one of the Candar sisters? Marion and Janette are gorgeous and absolutely worthy of being seen with you."

He scoffed and shook his head slightly. "You truly do not see yourself very clearly, do you?"

"What?"

"You heard me, Isabella. You do not see yourself clearly at all. You do not seem to understand the affect you have on the male population in town. Each and every one of them would like to be in my shoes tonight."

I furrowed my brow angrily. "That has to do with Royce, or have you forgotten the reputation that I have?"

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Will you stop with the reputation business? Do you not see that it does not matter what anyone thinks?"

"But it does matter. Your restaurant may struggle just because you have been seen with me."

"Then I will struggle. I am willing to go through that, because it truly is not important to me. There are millions of people in this city; someone will get hungry enough to stop in."

"But why, why would you willingly suffer through that? You could marry an honorable woman whose father could set you up with a good clientele and you would never have to worry for anything."

He sighed, obviously frustrated and leaned his head forward, pressing our foreheads together. "I don't have to worry for anything now. Marrying a rich girl won't benefit me in a financial way at all. I own two restaurants here in town, and I have my own money. However, let's say that I was a younger man and didn't have my own money; I would still suffer through anything for you, Isabella. And for the record, you are an honorable woman."

My throat tightened and I swallowed hard, hoping the dryness would go away. "What are you saying, Edward?"

We stopped twirling, neither of us caring about anything else going on around us. The ballroom could be on fire and we would not have known. Edward framed my face in his strong hands, his eyes dark and serious. "What I am saying, Isabella, is that I am in love with you. I have been in love with you since I met you."

My heart swelled and my breathing accelerated as my eyes stayed locked onto his. It could not be true, could it? He did not feel for me the way I felt for him. As I looked deep into his eyes, I found the answer: he did love me. I struggled to control my erratic breathing as I closed my eyes and thought about the time we had spent together. The sweetness of his lips against mine, the softness of his skin as he held my hand. His lips against my forehead after I delivered my son. Suddenly it hit me, crashed into me like a tidal wave. That day, less than a month ago, as his lips had been pressed to my forehead, he had murmured something I could not comprehend at the time. Now I knew what it was. I love you. He had said it to me then, even if I could not hear it.

A smile broke across my face and I opened my eyes to see him still watching me intently. "You said it. After I had my son, you said it."

He nodded. "I was not sure how you or your family would react to me saying it directly, but I hoped that, subconsciously at least, you would register what I said and know that it was the truth."

I reached up, placing my hands over the top of his, still on my cheeks. "Edward, I am in love with you as well." The angelic smile that touched his lips was my undoing and without really caring where we were or who was watching, I leaned forward pressing my lips firmly to his. Edward Masen loved me and as our lips locked in a wonderful, pure kiss, the world melted away. There was only us, and I would not have it any other way.

-Forks, WA, 12 March 2010-

I groaned as I sat in the middle of the bed in my hotel room. The memories were so vivid, the most vivid of my human life, almost as clear as the vampire memories. That part of my life was over, gone and it did me no good to keep remembering it. However, the memories came of their own volition. It seemed that even when I was trying to stay distracted, they still came.

I reached over and grabbed the stack of Edward's possessions that I'd gotten from the old woman in Chicago. I hadn't been ready to look at them since the woman had given them to me. Now, I wanted to see what I'd received. I was hurting anyway, so what was a little more pain?

The velveteen box was the first thing I touched and as I held it in the palm of my hand, my breathing accelerated. With trembling fingers, I slowly lifted the lid of the box and gasped as I took in the sparkling diamond ring. The band was braided gold, with a heart shaped diamond surrounded by rubies. It was so beautiful. A sob escaped my throat and I quickly closed the box and threw it across the room. I didn't know who the ring belonged to, and I didn't want to know.

With gasping sobs pouring from my throat, I pulled the stack of papers and the book over and set them in my lap. Gingerly, I opened the book, and flipped to the first page. Sure enough, it was as I suspected. This was Edward's journal. My fingertips traced over the letters of his elegant script, and I began to gently flip through the numerous pages. The book contained entries from as far back as 1914, but I didn't bother to read them. It was enough to just see his writing.

The book was far from full, but as I got closer to the final entries, my eyes settled on familiar dates to me. However, it wasn't until my eyes settled one particular date, that I stopped and started to read.

5th November 1917

Today has been terrible. I can't seem to get that young lady off my mind. It's been four days and I've heard nothing of her condition. I don't suspect that her parents will contact me though. I imagine that this is something they'll want to keep within their family, and I can't blame them. She's so young, and if Royce talks, it will just tarnish her reputation.

She looked so frail and broken, and it hurt my heart to see anyone do anything like that to someone. I'm glad I was the one that came across her. I fear she may have just been left to die if someone else had come along. The vision of her in that alley has been haunting my dreams since I found her. I know I should be embarrassed for her or even put off by how she was found, but that's not how I'm feeling. I feel as if I should be doing more for her. Perhaps I will stop by her home and see how she is doing. Maybe then I can try to move past that wretched event.

Slamming the book shut, I tossed it to the floor and pulled my legs up to my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn't bear to read anymore. It had been a mistake to read just that small entry. As memories of Edward flooded my mind, I fell back against the pillows and cried as the pain tore through me like a vicious attack by rabid dogs. It hurt, more than anything I'd experienced ever. Through childbirth, the rape, my change, I'd suffered severe pain, but nothing could compare to this—the knowledge that he may have loved and worried for me months before we met. No pain, physical or mental equated to the hellish abyss I felt. Time passed. It could have been hours, it could have been days, I didn't know. Once the wails of pain ended, I simply laid there. What I needed right now was a distraction, something to take my mind off of the tremendous misery I felt.

Actually, now that I thought about it, I did have a distraction. The Blacks. Billy and his son Jacob had been adamantly at Charlie's side since my arrival. Any time I went over to visit, it never failed; Billy or his son Jacob would show up. I wasn't sure how they knew about me, or even if they knew for sure what I was, but their behavior told me they at least suspected something was off with me.

I wasn't sure what to do about the situation, but I had to figure out something I had never been sure how long I'd be able to stay in Forks, but I suspected that with these two constantly coming around, I was going to have to cut my trip shorter than expected. I needed advice, and that only meant one thing.

Sighing heavily, I slipped my phone out of my pocket. This phone call would definitely be another distraction, and it was one I needed to make anyway. Add on top of that the fact that my throat was scorched with thirst, and I hadn't fed since I landed in Seattle. I pushed aside the burn as I hit the speed dial and brought the phone to my ear.

"Hey babe! We weren't expecting to hear from you."

"Hey, Peter," I mumbled. "How are you guys?"

"We're doing well, how about you? You don't sound like you're enjoying Forks."

I shrugged, knowing they couldn't see it. "It's all right, I suppose. Good environment for vampires."

"Oh yeah?"

"It's dank and rainy most of the time. You guys would love it." As I finished my statement, I sat silently, as I pondered whether or not to tell him the real reason for my call.

As if he could read my mind, Peter spoke, breaking the silence. "Babe, why did you really call? From the sound of your voice, I know you didn't call to talk to me about the weather."

"All right, you've got me," I grumbled, irritable from my lack of feeding and the fact that Peter knew me so well. "Something's not right here. I think..." I think I may be in danger. I dropped off before I could complete the sentence. There was no doubt in my mind that the Blacks were going to be trouble; the question was, how much trouble.

When he spoke again, his voice had an edge of panic mixed with anger. "Bella, are you okay? Has something happened?"

"No," I said, in a clipped tone. "Nothing's happened...yet." I whispered the last word, for some reason thinking that if I did, he wouldn't hear it. I was wrong, of course. His breathing picked up and I could tell what was coming, so I cringed back into the mattress and waited for it.

"Yet?" he hollered. "What do you mean yet? Is someone threatening you? Isabella Marie Swan, you have just ten seconds to tell me what the fuck is going on there or I'm taking my ass to the airport...One!"

"Peter it's really nothing...I don't even know why I said it."

"Two..."

"Damn it Peter, listen to me. It's nothing you and Laurent need to worry about, I can handle it myself."

"Three..."

"For fuck's sake, drop it!" I yelled.

"Four..."

"Fine!" I growled. "The first day I was here, Charlie had some friends over. I think they may have known what I was."

"What?" he yelled, and I pulled the phone away from ear hoping to God vampires couldn't go deaf.

"Peter, will you relax, Jesus! Okay, listen. They're Native American...from some reservation here in Washington. I don't know what it was about them, but the way they looked at me, I swear they had to know I was a vampire." On the other line, I heard the sounds of typing and smacked my forehead with the heel of my hand. He was doing a search, just peachy. No matter how annoyed I was, I couldn't help but be slightly amused by his need to hack something.

"Quileute? Is that what they're called?"

I shrugged. "Well how should I know?"

"Damn it to hell, Bella, you're not helping me. Help me, help you."

I snorted angrily. "I knew this was a bad idea." That wasn't true. I had called because I knew Peter would help me. Maybe he could dig up something on these two that could give me some insight into them. Still, he had a way of driving me nuts, and I was annoyed, so I lashed out.

"I don't know the name of the God damned tribe. I just thought you should know that they fucking know about me."

His growl was vicious. "I'm trying to help!" I heard the muffled sound of Laurent's voice on the other end, which made Peter groan and start taking slow, deep breaths. "Bella, Laurent wants to know what flavor you picked up from them."

Just thinking about it made me cringe. "It was really animalistic, wild. The closest I could say would be wet dog, but there was more to it. A spiciness I couldn't place. It was rancid; I swear it permeated the house for hours after they left."

"Oh God. I'm sorry." His voice was strained as he tried to reel in his anger. As much as I hated him yelling, I was silently glad that he was fiercely protective of me.

I shrugged again. "Don't apologize; I'm actually happy about it. The scent was so strong I didn't have to worry about blood lust. Nothing could get past that smell."

"Well, that's good I suppose. I'm glad that it stopped you from feeding on your family."

"Yeah, me too. Speaking of feeding, I need to get off here."

"How long has it been?"

"Just over a week."

"All right. Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you like that, but you're family and no one fucks with my family, especially after that bullshit with James. Now I'm going to keep doing research on this tribe. You call me if anything happens, do you hear me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I hear you! I promise I'll call if anything happens. I love you guys."

"We love you too, babe. Be safe." With that, the line clicked dead and I slumped back onto the pillow, letting out an exasperated sigh. I really needed to feed. With that thought in my mind, I pushed away all my other worries and slipped my shoes back on.

It was dusk when I exited the hotel room. As I raced off toward Seattle, I thought about what this week had been like. That first night, Charlie had offered for me to stay at his home with him. They had a hide-a-bed that he was willing to pull out so I would have something to sleep on. I had no intention of taking him up on the offer, since the scent of wet dog still hung thickly in the air. However, after four hours of talking privately and looking through old family pictures, the putrid smell began to disperse and suddenly all there was the luscious, delicious scent of human. It had taken every ounce of control I gained over the years to turn and walk away. The sloshing of his blood in his veins combined with the intoxicating aroma of his blood was incredibly tempting. However, I did not desire to kill my family.

Since then, I'd been staying in this crappy hotel. It wasn't great, but most of the swanky, expensive hotels were in Seattle, and I just wasn't going be driving back and forth. Forks itself was a nice small town. It was getting close to the end of the school year and the high school students were already starting to celebrate their summer break. Paul had, true to Charlie's word, fallen in love with my car. I had felt very bad for not being able to give it to him just yet, although I already decided that I would. It was brand new after all.

I spent more time with Charlie, but whenever he was not around Billy or Jacob, the blood lust was overwhelming. By the time I left, my body was usually trembling from the mental exertion of resisting. It was incredibly hard not to tear into the paper thin flesh and take in the sweet nectar that lay hidden below. I let out a sigh as I drew closer to Seattle. Hopefully this feed would give me the strength I needed for our lunch date tomorrow.

Not surprisingly, the city was fairly busy. The scent of human was powerful and threatened to crush me under its weight. I swallowed hard, determined not to tear into the first human I saw just because it was convenient. It was a Friday night and I knew without a doubt that the city would be packed. I just had to focus on taking one without making too much of a scene. I scanned the crowded streets as I walked around, sniffing the air tentatively for the right scent. The humans subconsciously stayed away from me, giving me a wide berth if they happened to be in my path. It always brought a smile to my face just the kind of effect I had on humans, whether they registered that effect or not.

The scent hit me at the same time that I saw my prey. She was stumbling down a partially isolated side street, dressed scantily. A tiny smile spread across my face as I made my way toward her, my eyes constantly searching to make sure I wasn't being watched or followed. When I came up to her, she stopped and turned to face me. Her eyes were glassed over and bloodshot; she was high. "The fuck do you want?" she slurred.

I put on my most persuasive smile as I spoke. "That's no way to talk to a paying customer." I leaned in a little and let my breath fan across her face as I spoke, watching in delight as she blinked furiously, and a confused look spread on her face.

"Sorry honey, I don't...I don't go that...that way." I pulled away from her as she spoke, letting my eyes dance across her body in mock suggestion. Her bare arms were covered in track marks from shooting up. I could sense that she would want a fix again soon, so I used the only thing I could think of to persuade her.

I leaned forward once more, letting my fingers trail lightly up her torso and across her breasts over her shirt. "Come on baby, I'll give you a thousand flat."

She stumbled back, her eyes wide as she took me in. I let my eyes lock onto hers, unleashing every bit of the persuasive power our kind had. She broke eye contact as she began to look around me, most likely trying to find her pimp. I stood and waited until she turned her attention back to me. "I don't know. I really...I really need to be out here working the streets."

I groaned and reached into my pocket, pulling out a thick wad of hundred dollar bills. "Two thousand, come on baby, give me some fun and then you can go get your fix." She reached out to me to take the cash and I snatched my hand back. "I'm not an idiot. You give me what I want and then you get your cash."

She swallowed and nodded. "You got a place?"

"Yep." I motioned for her to follow and we began to trek down the alley until we stumbled upon an abandoned warehouse. I smiled and turned toward her, grabbing her as gently as possible and pushing her up against the brick wall. I skimmed my nose across her neck, inhaling deeply as I came to her jugular, taunting me as it throbbed under her skin.

Just as I was about to sink my teeth into her, I felt a sharp pressure against my long dead kidney. I stopped instantly, furious that someone was interrupting my hunt. "All your money, bitch. Now!" Ah, the pimp had followed us to mug me. A slow smile spread across my face. I hadn't intended on taking two, but apparently, luck was on my side today.

I turned to face him, and before he could make a move to run, my right hand shot out and wrapped around his throat. I turned back to woman. She appeared to be sobering up, and from the looks of it, she was about to scream. Before she had the chance, I growled viciously, and sank my teeth deep into her jugular. The crimson nectar flowed down my throat instantly soothing the burn. I moaned and squeezed my eyes shut as I drank deeply. The flavor was overwhelming; the drugs in her system making it taste slightly off. I was too hungry to care, of course, but it didn't taste as good as untainted blood would have.

I felt the pimp trying to wriggle from my grasp and tightened my hand marginally, so as to not damage him before I was ready to feed again. As the woman's heart began to slow and then stop, I pulled back, allowing the drained body to slump to the ground. Immediately, I turned my attention back to the man, reveling in the fear that raced through his veins when he saw my burning red eyes. Without a second's thought, I yanked him to me, latching onto his neck tightly as his skin tore and his blood rushed down my throat.

He struggled and fought against me, the adrenaline in his body only fueling my blood lust more. I pulled him tighter, pressed my teeth deeper, letting myself fall with him as his legs gave out and his body slid to the ground.

Once he was drained completely, I pulled myself up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The two bodies lay beneath me as I inhaled, jubilantly. My newly alert senses and the drugs from the hooker had me feeling better than I had in a long time. I glanced down at the man's body, letting my right heel slam hard into his head. It was crushed under my foot, brain matter and a few tiny drops of blood splattering out across the pavement. There was no evidence of my bite on him now.

I did the same to the woman's body before launching myself away from the city. I flew between the buildings until I reached the wooded area, launching myself faster, harder, relishing in the speed. The trees and wind whipped past me and I closed my eyes, feeling exhilarated.

Sometime later, I was distinctly aware of a rustling behind me, the sound of footsteps, landing lightly on the ground. I pushed myself harder, trying to get away from whoever it was.

The scent caught me completely off guard; it was wonderful. A combination of spring freshness, almost like it was the sun itself harnessed into the perfect perfume, a sweetness akin to honey, and the wonderful light smell of lilacs. The combination was heady but carried with it the distinct smell of vampire as well.

Panic took me, trouble was behind me. I pushed myself harder still, trying to harness all the power my muscles had in hopes of going faster. I had to get away, and yet, somehow, I felt a tug in my chest telling me to stop. What was it? I heard a musical chuckle behind me; the voice carried a familiarity that I couldn't place as it sent tingles down my spine. When I heard it again, I stopped running.

"You're on claimed territory, Nomad. I suggest you keep running while you can. We will destroy you."

He had stopped behind me, not touching me, but standing close enough that if I tried to run again he would catch me. He chuckled again. "You're right, I will catch you. I had every intention of letting you go, but from your mind I can see that you've fed tonight. For killing two innocents you must be destroyed."

"Why?" I asked in a sarcastic voice. What did he mean from my mind? Who was he?

He chuckled again, obviously toying with me. "I meant that I can hear your thoughts. And you must be destroyed because we do not allow nomads to kill on our land; it puts us in danger of exposure."

Fucking mind-reading vampires. I'd heard stories of them but I didn't know they actually existed. "I was unaware the territory was claimed; it was necessary for me to feed." Before I could stop myself, my mind flickered to Charlie and Paul. The last thing I wanted was to kill them because I couldn't control myself. The gasp behind me startled me out of my memories and I wheeled around to face him.

My own gasp escaped my lips and I stumbled back slightly as I took him in. Like any other vampire I'd seen, he was lean and beautiful. His face was angular perfection, his arm and chest muscles clearly visible through his black t-shirt. The familiarity in his face was astounding. The change had made it more angular but it was the same face, the same lips, the nose. It had to be a hallucination, a mirage, something. There was no way this was real, but as my eyes traveled up past his eyes, I knew it was real. No memory I had could perfect that untidy bronze hair.

My eyes widened and I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth as I stumbled backward again. Our eyes locked and his were different than any vampire eyes I'd seen in my existence. Instead of the distinct red, his were a beautiful topaz. Another gasp escaped me as I took him in once again. He reached out a hand toward me, his expression stunned as he eyed me the same way I eyed him, with incredulous curiosity and reverence.

I took another step from him, this one more graceful than the last. His face became pained but he continued to hold his hand out to me, his voice ringing out in the tense air once more. "Isabella." He said my name with such devotion and awe that if my heart were not already dead, it would have stopped right that second.

My body was trembling, my eyes stinging as I looked upon him one last time before I did the only thing I could think of. I turned on my heel and ran.


End file.
